Chapter 952

Margaret Hamilton furrowed her brows, her fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of her teacup. "Do you think they already suspect something? After all, blood runs thicker than water. Parents always have the sharpest intuition about their children."

Alexander Hamilton tapped the table with his knuckles in a steady rhythm. "I have an inspection scheduled at the Canadian branch next week. Since the Liang couple is only back for a family visit, I’ll take the opportunity to sound them out first. As for Bianca..."

He paused, his gaze drifting to the plane trees outside the window. Withered leaves spiraled down, a fleeting dance that mirrored Bianca Langley’s tragically short life.

Evelyn Carter gripped the armrest of the sofa. "We can’t keep this hidden forever."

Margaret’s eyes reddened. "The Liangs gave up their family legacy for their daughter. If they find out—" Her voice broke, and she pressed a handkerchief to her eyes.

"Mom, I’ll handle this," Alexander said, his tone low and resolute. "Whatever anger comes, I’ll bear it."

Margaret hesitated, then simply patted her son’s shoulder before heading upstairs. The living room was left with only the three of them and the scattered remnants of Baby Chloe’s first-birthday toys.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, stretching their shadows across the floor. Peanut, their Ragdoll cat, leaped down from the cat tree and rubbed affectionately against the baby’s ankles.

Alexander knelt to gather the toys, his movements gentle, as if handling fragile treasures. He glanced up at Evelyn. "Don’t stand for too long."

Before she realized it, he had guided her to the sofa, immediately cushioning her lower back with a plush pillow. She stared absently at his slender fingers. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow," he replied, settling beside her. "I moved up the original schedule."

Evelyn frowned. "That important?"

The corner of Alexander’s mouth lifted slightly. "There’s a designer I need to poach. Highly sought-after, according to the Canadian branch."

"If the great Alexander Hamilton is going in person..." Evelyn arched a brow. "He must be quite the talent."

"Early thirties, international award winner," Alexander said, lightly tapping his knee. "Most importantly, he’s considering returning to work domestically."

Evelyn relaxed slightly against the cushions. "Then I wish the CEO a swift victory."

She knew this version of Alexander was no longer the aloof aristocrat of years past. His time in the village had taught him to see everyone as equals—a quality that made him irresistible to top talent.

The airport farewell came abruptly.

Baby Chloe clung to Peanut, her face buried in the cat’s fluffy fur. The feline flicked its tail impatiently but didn’t pull away.

Evelyn crouched to adjust the child’s collar. "Listen to Daddy, don’t eat too much ice cream, keep your distance from the TV when watching cartoons—"

She stopped abruptly, realizing how much she sounded like a nag. Emily Zade stifled a laugh nearby, shooting Alexander a knowing glance.

His gaze never left Evelyn. When the boarding announcement echoed through the terminal, he suddenly stepped forward, his voice rough. "May I have a hug?"

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled her into a gentle embrace. The familiar scent of cedarwood enveloped her, and she could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her ear.

"Just one," he murmured. "Or I won’t sleep from missing you."