Chapter 188 Grace's Counterattack
Grace looked suspiciously at the forced look on Liam's little face.
Liam shifted again, his ten adorable toes pressed tightly together, completely blocking the numbers on the scale. He didn't dare let Grace see.
Max commented from the side, "Definitely over sixty pounds."
Liam blushed and protested, "No way!"
Max gently patted his shoulder. "Liam, time to go on a diet."
Liam's eyes welled up with tears as he whimpered, "I don't want to!"
He jumped off the scale and scurried over to Max's side like a puppy, pleading desperately, "I don't want to go on a diet."
He was terrified that Max would stop cooking for him as part of a weight loss plan.
Max was torn between laughter and exasperation. "Could you have a little dignity!"
But as it turned out, little foodies had no such dignity.
Liam pressed his palms together and bowed to Max as if praying to a deity. "Max, please don't make me diet..."
Grace doubled over with laughter on the sidelines.
Liam was such a little treasure—absolutely hilarious. Just how delicious was Max's cooking to make Liam this desperate?
Seeing his pitiful expression, Max couldn't bear to be harsh. "Fine, fine, you win. I get it—I won't force you to diet. You can eat my cooking, but you have to exercise every day."
Liam considered this a very serious moment, then nodded. "Deal."
The two boys reached an agreement.
That afternoon.
Alexander returned from the office and took Grace and the two children to the mall to shop for clothes.
At the Chanel boutique.
Grace was browsing through outfits while Alexander and the two boys sat quietly to one side.
All three males sat with identical posture—elegant and refined.
Alexander casually picked up a business magazine, Max grabbed one as well, and Liam contentedly flipped through a comic book.
The sales associates glanced at Alexander, their eyes falling on the two children beside him, then looked enviously at Grace.
"That gentleman is so handsome and distinguished, and his sons are gorgeous too. Look at what they're wearing—they're clearly from a wealthy family."
"Must be a company CEO! So young but obviously loaded, and he still takes time to shop with his wife. So gentle and patient..."
"Marrying a man like that is like hitting the jackpot."
"Beautiful women always have the best luck..."
Liam quickly finished half his comic book. Glancing at Alexander and Max, who were still calmly reading their magazines, he looked out the window and spotted a couple walking by hand-in-hand with ice cream.
He said to Alexander, "Daddy, I want ice cream."
Max perked up at this. Looking at Alexander, he chimed in, "I want ice cream too."
Alexander closed his magazine. Seeing Grace still browsing clothes, he stood up. "I'll go buy some. You two stay here and behave until I get back."
Max and Liam chorused, "Okay."
They watched Alexander leave, then both lowered their heads in unison to return to their magazines and comic book.
Grace selected several outfits and handed them to a sales associate, planning to try them on.
Footsteps suddenly echoed from the entrance.
"Ms. Foster."
Grace thought it was a sales associate calling her. She turned around, only to come face-to-face with Mia.
Upon seeing Grace, Mia narrowed her eyes and snorted coldly. "Grace, what are you doing here?"
Grace replied, "I have no idea. What terrible luck, running into you here."
The two women met like enemies, the air between them immediately crackling with tension.
Mia bristled with anger and stepped toward her. "Watch your mouth! What do you mean it's terrible luck to see me?"
Grace said, "My mouth is perfectly clean."
Seeing Mia's finger practically poking her nose, Grace suddenly grabbed her finger and bent it backward.
Mia shrieked in pain, "Ow..."
Grace shoved her aside and said expressionlessly, "Don't you know it's rude to point at people?"
Furious and humiliated, Mia glared at Grace. Her eyes suddenly fell on the clothes Grace was holding, and she sneered contemptuously. "Grace, landing yourself a sugar daddy really makes a difference. But don't think that wearing a few thousand-dollar outfits suddenly makes you high-class or a real socialite. A mistress is still a mistress—never worthy of respect."
The sales associates immediately crowded closer, intrigued.
"A mistress?"
"This woman is a mistress?"
"That's Miss Foster—she's a socialite. If she says this woman is a mistress, she must know her background."
"A mistress shopping here so brazenly? Isn't she afraid of getting beaten up?"
Mia quickly corrected, "Oh wait, I can't call her a mistress. At least mistresses have some emotional connection. You're not even that good—you're just a kept woman who sleeps with men for money. When he's feeling generous, he throws you a few designer bags and Chanel outfits. When he's done with you and you're past your prime, he'll dump you without a second thought."
Liam tugged at Max's sleeve.
Max looked up and immediately narrowed his eyes when he saw Mia.
Why was this woman here?
Grace said, "Some people look decent on the outside but are absolutely rotten inside. They can't stand seeing others happy. But how can I expect such a creature to speak like a civilized human being?"
Mia wasn't offended—instead, she responded with a fake sweetness. "Oh my, did I hit a nerve? Getting all worked up, are we?"
Grace smiled elegantly. "Mia, how do you even have time to worry about me? Did you and that fiancé who dumped you get back together yet?"
Mia's face turned pale. "I'm the one who dumped him, not the other way around!"
Grace raised an eyebrow. "Still in denial? If you ask me, next time find someone better—at least someone more generous. It's just a Hermès bag—how much could it cost? Even if he really couldn't afford it, he shouldn't have dumped you over it. Announcing the engagement and then having the groom run off—now that's embarrassing."
Mia retorted, "What do you know? We'll get back together eventually!"
Grace said, "A mama's boy, and you're still chasing after him shamelessly? Mia, just how desperate are you? Afraid you'll never get married?"
She casually hung the clothes back on the rack, thoroughly enjoying Mia's furious expression, and said with a sweet smile, "Don't get mad—can't handle the truth? Mia, you're a Foster family daughter, yet you're chasing after such a cheap man. Now that's what I call lowering your standards."
Mia shot back, "So what? I'm still classier than you. At least I'd never stoop to being someone's kept woman."
Grace replied, "Jealous? Envious that my man buys me Chanel and Hermès? If you're that bitter about it, why don't you become a kept woman too? Though I doubt you'd be worth as much as me."
Grace's retorts left Mia speechless.
Even though Mia was calling her a kept woman, she knew that the more she protested, the worse it would look. Outsiders would just enjoy the drama.