Chapter 181

Chapter 181

Victor, being threatened, looked furious.

He stared at Michael, whom he had raised with his own hands, with appreciation in his eyes, but more anger.

"You've grown up and don't respect me anymore. Well, go ahead and try. Let's see who ends up losing in the end."

"I said it back then - Isabella is useless, nothing but a pretty face, completely worthless. And now? She's still the same. You'd better think this through."

Victor's tone carried a warning as he finished speaking.

This was his attitude.

Michael could fool around with Isabella, but he absolutely couldn't be serious about her.

She could have become Mrs. Johnson back then, but now that was out of the question.

Michael naturally understood the hidden meaning in these words. He snorted coldly, turned around and left.

Back home.

He opened the door to see Isabella and Clea sitting at the dining table eating.

Clea's mouth was stuffed full, making her look like a little chipmunk.

Isabella looked gentle and loving, the light in her eyes like spring sunshine, driving away all gloom.

Michael's mood improved considerably. He strode over, "What are you two chatting about? You look so happy."

Clea's little mouth was quick, "Of course we're talking about what to eat tonight. Auntie said she'll cook for me herself - she's going to make me spaghetti and fry me a steak."

Clea was clearly a little foodie, getting incredibly excited at the mention of food.

Isabella smiled along from the side.

Soon, breakfast was finished.

Isabella was about to leave with Clea when Michael suddenly wrapped his arms around her slender waist.

His face darkened as he emphasized, "Don't you want to know where I went last night? Or why I'm just getting back now?"

Isabella paused, "Didn't you say before? You don't allow me to ask about your business because it would affect your work. In your world, work is the most important thing - no one can disturb you. Have you forgotten?"

Past memories flooded back.

Michael's face darkened even more, his tone heavier, "Your memory sure is good. But I also told you to treat me better - how come you don't remember that?"

Isabella frowned, "Am I not good to you?"

He had left her body in that state last night, and she hadn't complained once.

She'd been very considerate and gentle already.

Michael said with a dark expression, "Help me pick out some clothes."

Isabella nodded.

Soon, Isabella randomly grabbed a suit from the pile and pulled out matching accessories.

Of course, they matched well.

Isabella moved efficiently, laying out the clothes and accessories one by one.

Michael's expression grew even darker as he sat on the sofa without saying a word.

Isabella checked the time - she was running late. "I've prepared your clothes and accessories for you, this will work. I have an important meeting, so I need to go."

Michael sat there, his voice serious, "I'm not feeling well. Help me get dressed..."

What was going on? He couldn't even dress himself now?

Isabella didn't have time to think much about it. She resignedly walked over and skillfully removed Michael's clothes, then put the new ones on him.

Throughout the whole process, she didn't blush once - only looked anxious.

After finishing everything, she practically ran out without looking back.

Michael sat there, watching the closed door, his whole body radiating an aura that warned people to stay away.

Isabella really wasn't shy at all.

She had just stripped all his clothes off and changed him into new ones, yet her face didn't flush and her heart didn't race. Did she really have no feelings left?

At this thought, his expression grew even darker.

Then his phone suddenly rang.

He answered, "I'm at home, come over quickly."

Half an hour later.

Joseph rushed over. Seeing he wasn't injured, he rolled his eyes, "You scared me! I thought something happened to you. You're acting crazy."

Michael pulled out a cigarette and lit it, very irritated, "Your job isn't that important anyway. Besides, I'm looking for you to talk about the Bailey family."

Joseph also came from a wealthy family, and more importantly, his company had business dealings with the Bailey family.

Know yourself and know your enemy, and you'll never lose.

The research materials others made were always lacking something.

Joseph sat up straight, "I'm telling you, Old Mr. Bailey will absolutely not give up your engagement easily. After all, the Bailey family has been declining these years, and more importantly, they don't have a qualified heir. The old man might be waiting for you to help train the younger generation."

So there you have it.

Breaking off the engagement wouldn't be that simple.

After Joseph carefully analyzed everything, Michael laughed coldly, "Everyone has their weaknesses. I'll make this quick."

Isabella knew nothing about Michael's plans.

Arriving at the company, having become a partner, she had already moved into a larger office.

Clea was quite shocked, "Auntie, did you get promoted? Your office is so beautiful, almost as nice as Dad's. Is this what adults call being well-matched?"

"Do you really like that mean uncle and not my dad? Let me tell you, my dad is really great. So many people have their eyes on him right now. Let me tell you all about it..."

Noticing that Michael and Isabella's relationship seemed unusual, she started talking about Eric's good points. Not only that, she mentioned several people pursuing Eric.

Isabella wasn't normally interested in these things, but hearing the funny stories, she couldn't help but laugh out loud.

It wasn't surprising that someone as excellent as Eric had so many admirers.

What was surprising was how humorous he was.

Every time he faced different women's advances, he would act physically weak and unable. He had said more than once that Clea would be his only child in this lifetime, hinting to everyone that he couldn't perform.

For a man, the hardest thing to admit is being unable to perform.

Yet he didn't care at all.

He kept saying he couldn't do it.

Clea was just a child and didn't understand these things, so when she mentioned the words "can't do it," she looked completely confused.

"I don't understand why either. Every time Dad says he can't do it, the woman's face turns ugly and she runs away. Is Dad not being able to work that important? But everyone else at home says Dad is really capable and can make lots and lots of money."

Hearing Clea's question, Isabella didn't know how to answer for a moment, since she couldn't explain it clearly to a child.

So she could only choose to change the subject.