Chapter 94

Chapter 94

Watching her carefully hidden treasure confiscated right before her eyes, Hannah immediately protested. She slapped the sofa armrest forcefully, crying out indignantly, "Michael! Why are you scolding them? I'm the one who wanted to eat it! Don't I even have the right to give someone a gift anymore?!"

She looked like a child whose candy had been snatched away. The more she spoke, the more aggrieved she became, until her eyes reddened.

Faced with Hannah's accusation, the ferocity in Michael's demeanor instantly vanished.

He let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples in exasperation. In this world, aside from Jessica, the only person who could leave him so helpless yet demand his complete indulgence was the elderly woman before him—the one who had raised him.

He crouched down before Hannah, his tall frame looming slightly as he grasped her trembling hands. His tone softened completely, carrying a coaxing quality. "Grandmother, I'm not forbidding you from giving gifts. But when you do give gifts, you need to choose the right things, don't you? She doesn't like such sweet, rich cheese."

"Really?" Hannah eyed him suspiciously.

"Really." Michael lied without batting an eye, though his gaze remained utterly sincere. "Besides, if you truly want to make her happy, you need to keep your health in top condition. Think about it—when she joins the family, won't you need to personally oversee the wedding? And later, when there are great-grandchildren, won't you need to hold them yourself? If you indulge your sweet tooth now and damage your health, you won't be able to do any of those things when the time comes."

These words struck precisely at Hannah's soft spot.

At the thought of chubby great-grandchildren in the future, any lingering dissatisfaction in Hannah's heart evaporated instantly.

"Fine, fine, fine. I won't eat it, all right?" Though Hannah still grumbled, she clasped Michael's hands in return, her face breaking into a smile once more. "For your sake, I'll have to stick around for at least another twenty years!"

Seeing Hannah finally appeased, Michael secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He stood up, personally supporting her arm. "Come on, you've just finished eating. I'll accompany you for a walk in the back garden to help with digestion."

The night breeze was cool. Vintage-style lamps cast a warm yellow glow throughout the estate's back garden.

Grandmother and grandson strolled slowly along the path paved with cobblestones, the atmosphere rarely this warm and peaceful.

However, this tranquility didn't last long.

As they turned a corner around a corridor, they came face-to-face with a middle-aged woman wearing an expensive silk shawl, impeccably groomed.

It was Ella Snow, Michael's stepmother.

Seeing Michael, Ella's expression first stiffened slightly, then immediately transformed into a flawless, gentle smile. She hurried forward, her posture extremely deferential, as if she were a genuinely caring mother. "Michael, you're back? Why didn't you call ahead? Have you had dinner? I'll have the kitchen prepare some of your favorite dishes right away..."

Before she could finish, Michael's footsteps didn't pause for even a moment.

Those ice-blue eyes, which had held a trace of warmth just moments ago, instantly frosted over with a thick layer of ice the moment they fell upon Ella.

He didn't even spare her a glance, as if the person standing before him was merely an invisible presence of no consequence.

Supporting Hannah, he walked directly past Ella. His sharp jawline tensed rigidly, his entire being radiating nobility and disgust without the slightest attempt at concealment, ruthlessly shredding Ella's hypocritical mask.

After accompanying Hannah through the garden walk, Michael escorted her back to her room to rest.

When he returned to the first-floor living room, Ella was already seated on the sofa.

Seeing him emerge, Ella immediately adopted a gentle, concerned smile and rose to greet him. "Michael, come sit down. I specially had the kitchen prepare chicken soup. You work so hard at the precinct, constantly pulling all-nighters on cases—you need to take care of yourself."

Michael's steps paused slightly, undisguised irritation flickering through his ice-blue eyes. He didn't sit, merely glancing coldly at the bowl of soup, his voice flat. "No need. I don't drink these things."

Ella's smile froze momentarily, but she quickly resumed her virtuous wife and loving mother act.

She personally carried the soup tureen toward him, coaxing earnestly, "But I watched over the stove for three hours making this. Even if you don't appreciate my efforts, you should at least care for your own health. If your father saw you being so careless with yourself, he'd be heartbroken."

She couldn't go three sentences without invoking Liam Sullivan, attempting to pressure him with paternal authority.

Michael let out a cold laugh, finding it absurd.

With one hand in his trouser pocket, he looked down at Ella from his superior height, his tone perfunctory to the extreme. "Leave it there. I still have matters to attend to. I'm leaving."

Seeing him about to leave, Ella finally lost her composure.

She set the tureen down heavily on the coffee table, producing a sharp clinking sound.

"Michael, wait a moment." Ella took a deep breath, assuming an elder's authority. "I'm here today because there's an important matter I need to discuss with you."

Michael stopped, turning his head slightly, his gaze cold as ice. "Speak."

Ella looked at his distant demeanor, secretly seething inside while maintaining a gentle exterior. "You're not getting any younger. You can't stay single forever. Your grandmother is anxious, and your father and I are worried sick. Did you know Isolde is back?"

Michael's brow furrowed slightly. He didn't respond.

Ella continued on her own, her tone taking on a calculated warmth. "I've met Isolde. She's beautiful, lively, and she's even taken a position at Autumnleaf District Precinct, so you two would have common ground. Most importantly, you two once made a childhood promise to marry, and Chief Bishop is very pleased with you. You should find time to spend with Isolde, develop your relationship, and settle this marriage..."

"Are you finished?"

Michael coldly interrupted her endless prattle.

The air in the living room seemed instantly drained, the temperature plummeting.

He turned around, those ice-blue eyes churning with piercing coldness, as if regarding a circus clown.

"Ella, aren't you overstepping your bounds?"

Ella's face paled at his icy attitude, her eyes immediately reddening.

She clutched her chest, adopting an expression of deep hurt, her voice trembling with grievance. "Michael, what kind of talk is that? I'm your nominal mother. I'm planning for you, thinking of your future—is that wrong? Do you know what status Calliope holds in the Sunrise City police world? Marrying Isolde would only benefit your career! I'm doing all this for your own good!"