Chapter 6:

Towards that man, her father helped her hide the story of Iris. Her father had a wonderful relationship with the hospital director, so he agreed to help her lie. Therefore, the man completely didn't know about Iris's existence, so he could be by her side without being snatched away by him. If he knew Iris was alive, she couldn't bear to think about a day when Iris wasn't by her side anymore!

After that, she continued her university studies, and eventually, her father's company could no longer support her. Not long after, her father filed for bankruptcy, and he fulfilled his promise to give her a large sum of money. In fact, it was even more than the amount stated in the contract.

Thanks to that, the burden on her shoulders decreased. She used that money to repay her father's debts.

After the company went bankrupt, Mr. Richart started over from scratch, but he was already old, having lived more than half of his life. He had too many obstacles around him, lost the vigor of his youth, no longer daring to take risks, fearing failure.

Her foster mother - Eubola, no longer enjoyed wealth and prosperity. She resented why she married Mr. Richart, that useless old man. She should have been the owner of a company, but she had to go out every day to do odd jobs.

This made her more scheming, and she couldn't hold a job for long. When scolded by others outside, she would come home and vent all her anger toward Sonya and her child.

Nora had a personality similar to Eubola's, unable to graduate from university, and could only study for another five years. But her temperament often caused trouble, and many idle young men came to the house.

Even after graduating, she couldn't find a decent job. Saying this job or that wasn't suitable, so she still stayed at home to freeload. All day she hung out with the idle young people, with unclear relationships. And not content with that, she often went to nightclubs, causing quite a stir.

When Iris was born and still breastfeeding, she had to go to school, so that period was very difficult. In fact, she couldn't take care of Iris well because she had to skip classes and was selected for an outstanding class. The university program was very heavy, so even when she had free time, she had to study more. On weekdays, she hurried to work to earn money, and she also had to take care of Iris, which made her health decline.

After graduating from university, she found a fairly good job, and the conditions at home were slightly better. But now, her mother and sister both quit their jobs and stayed at home, so she worried that when she went to work, Iris would be bullied at home by those two. Like the way they treated her when they were at the Richart's house.

When she hugged Iris home, Nora coldly mocked her with the words: "A wild child," which was a phrase she couldn't forget. So after getting a job, she immediately took her son away from the Richart's house and rented a room outside for the two of them.

Every day before going to work, she sent Iris to daycare. After school, her son would stand in front of the school gate waiting for her.

Fortunately, Iris understood things. Although still young, he often thought for his mother-self. He rarely threw tantrums, and now when her son finished school, he would come home by himself, with no need for her to pick him up anymore.

When they walked out onto the street, the sun was already high.

He hugged his toys and followed behind her, his steps gradually slowing down. Now was the midsummer, just coming out from a cool place, so he couldn't adapt to the weather a bit.

Iris raised his small face, softly called out, "Mom..."

Sonya turned around, seeing her son's flushed face, her face helpless. She quickly took his toys, worriedly furrowed her brows, and asked, "What's wrong? Iris, are you tired?"

Iris furrowed his brows, leaned against her arm, and said, "Mom! It's too hot, too hot. Iris can't walk anymore, wants mom to carry! Want to be carried..."

Hearing that, Sonya was stunned, couldn't help but burst out laughing, and sat down. Iris saw this. His eyes curved with a smile, mischievously sticking out his tongue, and jumped into her arms. Sonya firmly held her son.

Iris nestled contentedly against her shoulder, his small face pressed against her, his sweet voice asked, "Mom, are you tired?"

"Tired, dear."

"Wait until Iris grows up, I'll carry mom again!"

Sonya laughed, "Good! Iris is truly mom's little warm angel!"

Her baby raised his hand and placed it on her face, innocently asked, "Mom, what is a little warm angel?"

"It's someone who can make others feel warm. It's a little angel."

"Oh! Iris only makes mom warm, not others!" Iris sweetly said, his lips pouted, pink, he kissed her face "Smack" loudly.

The two laughed, bumping their heads together, step by step, moving away.

By the roadside, a Lincoln car stood silently.

The sleek black body of the car, in the window, a boy showed his face, he have with a handsome yet still youthful face.

The lazy little boy leaned against the leather seat, one hand supporting his chin. He looked about six years old, an age that shouldn't have such a mature and cold expression. The boy glanced through the car window, his face expressionless as he watched Sonya and Iris playing around over there. His eyes seemed somewhat cold and negative.

As the figures of the two grew farther and farther away.

For some reason, as he watched their figures recede into the distance, there was a feeling in his heart that he couldn't quite describe.

However, it was a feeling of slight pain and bitterness mixed with a hint of moisture. Soon after, it turned into loneliness.

His gaze no longer followed them as their figures disappeared. He lowered his eyes, concealing the loneliness deep in his eyes, and his gaze shifted to the notebook on his lap. Looking at the half-written words, he felt a little melancholy before closing it.

A middle-aged man in a suit opened the car door and handed over a sweet breakfast package.

"Master, here's your sweet breakfast."

The butler opened the breakfast box for him, handed him the cake, and then the fork.

The boy took it indifferently, but when he looked at this cake, he suddenly vaguely remembered the little boy with dimpled cheeks hugging a toy, and he didn't want to eat it anymore.

"Not eating." He pushed it aside, coldly saying, "Driver, go."

Patrick looked at him in surprise. Then, he threw the cake into the roadside trash can and climbed into the driver's seat.

At night.

FPT Group, the CEO's office.

In sight was a graceful figure exuding luxury.

The man stood by the window, his tall and slender figure reaching 1.8 meters, exuding a powerful aura.

His face was gone, looking down at the bustling urban night scene. His gaze seemed fixed, his eyes deep and profound.

Marry slowly opened the CEO's door, only to see a figure standing silently by the window. The corner of her lips instinctively curved into a gentle smile.

This man held the highest position in the FPT Group. He was the young and wealthy CEO, holding the reins of power in the FPT Group. He was also the eldest master of the Evan family, and her unmarried husband.

Although they hadn't held a wedding ceremony, she already regarded herself as the future madam of the Anderson family. In the future, her wedding would be the most grandiose and extravagant of the century.

But many wealthy young ladies welcomed this man. Remembering today's newspaper headline featuring Evan with his dear sister-in-law, Marry couldn't help but feel jealous!

In the eyes of outsiders, she was the future mistress of the FPT Group. But no one knew that she and Evan had the status of husband and wife, yet were not like a proper couple.

This man was freezing towards her.

This made her hard to bear.

Marry placed her purse on the sofa, gently approached him from behind, and gently embraced his sturdy figure, her face slowly pressing against his broad back.

"Evan..."

Evan restored his gaze, his expression indifferent as he tilted his head. Under the light, his figure was deep and refined, his five senses sharp. His long eyes were proud, angular and clear, especially those deep phoenix eyes, like black gems, seducing people's souls.

He was a handsome and mature man, his elegance not just symbolic. Despite his young, cold-looking face, deep down, he exuded the aura of a king.

Even lifting a hand or raising a leg, he displayed a dignified aura, like a noble emperor in ancient times, waving his hand to gain everything.

This kind of aura, as soon as it appeared, revealed how much experience and bloodline he had, naturally possessing a majestic demeanor.

"I was told to come ask you if you'll be home tomorrow night?"

His eyebrows raised, his lips opening coldly, saying, "Not coming home."