Chapter 66

Missy rushed back to the Anderson Mansion, her mind racing with Patricia's request.

She was about to head upstairs to find William when she bumped into Ruben.

Missy quickly pulled Ruben into a room and spilled everything Patricia had asked for.

"Ruben, you should've seen Patricia. She was so calm when she made her request, but it scared me to death," Missy said, recalling Patricia's lifeless expression.

Ruben loosened his tie and asked casually, "What did she ask for? Just a studio, right?"

"Not just that!" Missy moved closer to him, lowering her voice to a whisper. "She also wants Emily to officially join the Anderson Family."

Ruben froze. "That's not a small request."

"Exactly!" Missy leaned on Ruben's shoulder and sighed softly. "I figured Patricia must be really upset to ask for something like that. What is Charles thinking? He already has a wife and kid. Is he planning to cheat?"

She shivered, her eyes wide with fear. "I heard from Thea that Emily's early education teacher looks a lot like that woman. What if Charles wants to keep that teacher close and Patricia leaves with Emily? Emily is such a sweet kid, I can't bear to lose her."

Ruben looked at Missy's panicked expression and softened his tone. "You're overthinking. Haven't you seen how Charles treats Patricia lately?"

"That's what scares me!" Missy glared at him. "He treated Irene the same way—flowers, jewelry, dinners, movies. And then he just cut her off. If Patricia loses hope, even ten Charles couldn't bring her back!"

Thinking about Charles's past behavior with Irene, Missy's sense of crisis intensified.

Ruben was silent for a moment, then patted her shoulder. "Alright, I'll handle it. I'll talk to Charles tonight and make sure he doesn't make the wrong choice."

Missy finally relaxed, leaning into him. "Make sure you talk to him properly, don't start another fight."

Patricia, unaware of the turmoil at home, was sitting on the couch listening to Yara Miller from the education team report on Emily's progress.

The lengthy report bored Patricia, and she absentmindedly tapped her knee with her fingers.

"Emily is very sensitive to numbers, but her attention span is short. She plays with blocks after writing for ten minutes," Yara said, and Lillian, standing nearby, chimed in.

Wearing a simple white dress with her long hair down, Lillian softened her voice to sound gentle and innocent.

"Mrs. Anderson, if I may, Miss Emily's behavior is likely because you spoil her too much. Children need rules to grow up properly."

Patricia looked at her, her eyes probing. "Ms. Brown, are you suggesting I don't know how to raise my child?"

Lillian's smile faltered but quickly recovered. "You misunderstand, ma'am. I just think the schedule could be stricter. For example, adding two hours of etiquette lessons daily. It's important for girls to have good manners."

"She's only three," Patricia said calmly. "Ms. Miller, starting next week, reduce an hour of literacy and replace it with outdoor activities."

Yara was stunned but quickly nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Lillian's face turned pale, her fingers gripping the lesson plan tightly. "Ma'am! This will hinder Miss Emily's early education..."

"My daughter, I know how to teach her," Patricia interrupted, her tone brooking no argument. "I appreciate your concern, Ms. Brown, but I don't want Emily to lose interest in other things because of her studies."

Lillian bit her lip, not daring to say another word, silently cursing Patricia.

'Emily is always whining, lacking independence, and loves playing with blocks!

Patricia, as a mother, is always on her tablet, what does she know about parenting!

She's just taking advantage of being Mrs. Anderson, but that position isn't necessarily hers.'

With these thoughts, Lillian lowered her eyes, hiding her emotions.

Later that evening, Charles returned to Rosewood Estate, reeking of alcohol.

It seemed he came back at the wrong time; the lights were off, and no one was in the living room, except for a small lamp left on to light the way.

Charles glanced at the dark dining room.

'Looks like she's already eaten.'

As he walked down the hallway, someone suddenly appeared.

Charles frowned, stepping back to look at the person.

Lillian smiled, holding a bowl of hangover soup. "Mr. Anderson, you're back? I noticed you drank a lot, so I made some hangover soup."

Charles sidestepped her hand. "No need."

Lillian didn't give up, stepping closer, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Mr. Anderson, don't overwork yourself. Actually... I have something to discuss. I noticed Mrs. Anderson seems unhappy lately. Did I do something wrong to upset her?"

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with feigned innocence. "Today, we discussed Miss Emily's schedule, and Mrs. Anderson didn't seem to like my suggestions. Maybe I was too eager."

Charles finally looked at her, his gaze icy. "Who are you?"

Lillian's smile vanished. "Mr. Anderson, I'm Lillian, Miss Emily's etiquette teacher."

"Rosewood Estate's rules: don't ask what you shouldn't, don't meddle in what you shouldn't," Charles interrupted, his voice cold. "You reported to the wrong person. The head of this house is Patricia, not me."

With that, he walked straight to the master bedroom without another glance at her.

Lillian stood frozen, the hangover soup spilling onto the floor.

In the master bedroom, Patricia had just finished washing up when she saw Charles stumble in.

The smell of alcohol was strong, and Patricia frowned, blocking his way. "Why are you drinking again? Didn't I tell you not to come into the master bedroom if you've been drinking?"

Charles blinked, trying to recognize her. When he did, he said, "I'm back."

Patricia glared at him, not responding. Charles looked at his clothes and understood.

"I'll take a shower... wait for me, I have something to tell you."

He walked into the bathroom.

Patricia worried he might pass out, waited by the bathroom door, cursing him in her mind.

When he came out, his hair was wet, and he was wrapped in a towel.

He sat on the bed and suddenly grabbed Patricia's hand, rambling.

"Today's summit partner was tough, they insisted on lowering the price by three points. I spent the whole afternoon negotiating."

"And that guy Black, who competed with me for a project at the last party, shamelessly asked for a collaboration today. Can you believe it?"

"Oh, and Grandpa urged me to have a second child again. I told him Emily is still young, and he glared at me."

Patricia's head hurt from his chatter. She pulled her hand away. "Charles, can you shut up?"

Charles looked at her, then pouted like a scolded child.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"Yes," Patricia said irritably, raising her hand as if to hit him. "If you keep talking, I'll hit you!"

To her surprise, Charles leaned in, his eyes bright. "Then hit me gently, I have to meet clients tomorrow."

Patricia's hand froze mid-air, looking at his face so close.

His eyelashes were long, his nose slightly red, showing the laziness and honesty of someone drunk.

At this moment, he didn't seem like the high-and-mighty president of the Anderson Group, but like a big boy who hadn't grown up.

Her heart skipped a beat, her face flushed. "Go to sleep!"

She tried to pull her hand back, but Charles held it, bringing it to his lips.

He kissed her palm, his voice hoarse, and when he looked at Patricia again, his eyes held a hint of desire.