Leanna-Chapter 261: [ESTELA] Misbehaving with the Kids 1

"Mom, are you alright?" Zach asked with his innocent, round puppy eyes.

He must have noticed I couldn’t walk properly, all thanks to my wonderful husband.

I smiled and patted his little head. "I’m fine. Your father just gave me so much love last night."

My lips twitched when my muscles ache, especially my swollen vagina and painful thighs.

Zhander just winked at me, grinning haughtily.

I rolled my eyes and held Zach’s hand as we walked around Santa’s Village, a popular attraction in Finland during Christmas.

Zhander, who held our baby girl in his arms, was dashing and handsome in his winter clothes. And me, wearing my white winter dress and coat, holding Zach’s arm so he wouldn’t run towards every attraction he sees.

We look like a perfect family!

"Mom! I want to play that!" Zach tugged my coat, pointing at a shooting booth while I roamed my eyes, wanting to try many things.

"Alright, let’s go!" I said and carried Zach in my arms, not minding his weight. We zoomed to the shooting booth while Zhander followed behind us, shaking his head.

He was like a nanny watching three children with a big baby pink duffle bag containing the kids’ stuffs, on his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Three was pushing our kids’ strollers while the other bodyguards kept a watchful eye around us.

"Alright, keep both of your eyes open and aim at the center while steadying your hands. Take a deep breath, and . . . shoot."

bang!

The little plastic bullet missed the white bunny stuff toy, and Zach glanced at me like he was about to cry.

"It’s alright! Let’s try again!" I cheered and patted his little head.

*snicker

Our eyes flickered on a little fat kid, holding a mocking smile on his face. He was about six years old, but look a lot older due to his big frame.

"What’s the matter? Even though mommy is teaching you, you still can’t aim?" the kid said, which made Zach’s eyes turned all watery.

Grr!

I narrowed my eyes at the fatty which the boy just scoffed my threatening aura away. He must be a natural bully who gets away with anything, and judging from his dress and fatty frame, he was well off.

Well, anyone who could afford a vacation in this expensive place was all well off.

I pulled my sleeves on both arms, ready to teach the boy a lesson –– but Zhander grabbed the collar of my coat before I could take a single step.

"Stop it. He’s just a kid," he said, amused.

"Dad . . ."

Zach cried and went to his father’s side. He hugged Zhander’s leg, boring his cute little chubby cheeks in his father’s protection.

Alright, that’s it! No one makes my little boy cry!

"Estela . . . ," Zhander warned when I was about to storm toward fatty.

He then patted Zach’s little head and smiled at him. "Zach, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. No one is good at it for the first time. The important thing is, you don’t give up."

Zach’s stared at him with adoring sparkling eyes.

I pouted.

Maybe Zach was more attached to Zhander because of how good he handled things, while I, on the other hand, resolve everything with force and violence.

Hmp!

So what!

I’m still his mother!

At least, I was doing my motherly job right.

"Now, I want you to try another round and don’t stop until you get what you wanted, alright?"

Zach nodded with determined eyes, puffy cheeks, and pouting lips. He grabbed the toy gun and aimed.

I sighed, contentment filling my heart at watching my husband and son.

"Heh, looser."

Grr!

I glared once more at the fatty when he mocked my baby boy when Zach missed his target again.

"Don’t mind anyone else, buddy. No one is a loser unless you give up," Zhander urged, and Zach followed, not minding anyone else as he focused on that puffy white bunny stuff toy.

The fat boy finally shuts up when Zach’s bullet grazed the little white rabbit. It swayed before it went still.

"Good job, Zach! You’re getting good at this, buddy. Only a little more," Zhander encouraged all smiles as I wiped away the tears in my eyes.

Ahhh . . . my little baby boy is growing up . . .

Zach’s aimed again when all of a sudden . . .

bang!

We stared in disbelief at the fat kid, holding a shotgun toy, also aiming at the little white bunny.

Shameless!

Even Zhander’s brows twitched.

Now the harmless shooting game turned into a competition –– Zach with his tiny revolver, and the fat kid with his shotgun.

Though the guns were plastic, they were still modeled from the original, so it was a little heavy. Zach’s body was still small. Thus, a revolver was good for his size.

Grr!

That’s it!

Could no longer hold my temper, I snatched a plastic bullet that came my way and flicked it towards the fat kid before he could even press the trigger.

"Aw!"

The fat kid squealed and missed his mark while Zach took the opportunity to aim and fire.

bang!

With a straight shot, the bullet landed at the center of the helpless white bunny, and it went falling like a dead rabbit.

"Yeees!"

Zach jumped from joy and was beaming with happiness while he puffed his chest, looking at his father.

Zhander laughed and ruffled Zach’s hair with one hand, looking all proud while his other hand still held our sleeping baby girl.

While I, on the other hand, jumped and kneeled on the snow as I hugged my squishy marshmallow, rubbing my cheeks against his.

"That’s my baby boy! Muwah! Muwah!"

I planted kisses all over Zach’s chubby cheeks, which he giggled in delight.

"Here you go, little man." The staff handed the white bunny prize to Zach, and the little guy held it with care, staring at it like it was a priceless trophy.

Zhander reached for his pocket and paid the staff with a few hundred bucks.

Actually, a hundred bucks could already buy a hefty amount of toys, but we didn’t care. This stuffed toy was important. We would pay any price for our children to achieve whatever it was they wanted to accomplish.

"Dad, here . . ." Zach extended the toy, giving it to his father.

Zhander was at a loss. Then he flashed a loving smile and ruffled Zach’s hair.

"Is this for your sister?"

Zach beamed and nodded.

No wonder he chose the girly stuff toy besides the other toys for boys. I almost thought to redecorate his room, changing it to a more girly color if that was how he wanted, which of course, I wholeheartedly supported.

It turned out, he just wanted to give it to his little sister.

Tehehehe.

I facepalm myself, and before I could hug my baby boy again, a startling screeching cry forced us to look at the fat kid who was crying a bucket of tears while shouting ’mommy, mommy.’

After a moment, a fat woman dress in a tiger fur coat bounce––I mean, ran towards us together with a fat bearded man dress in gentleman’s hat and coat. I couldn’t help but ask myself on how many months the food in his tummy was, judging by how big and bloated he was. One wrong move, the buttons in his vest would come shooting at us like bullets.

"What’s wrong, honey? Speak to me! Why are you crying? Who hurt you?" the frantic woman asked while wiping away the mucus and tears from her kid’s face.

The boy pointed at us, pointed explicitly at Zach.

"Mommy, I want that toy! I want that toy!" he roared, which cringes the ears.

The woman stared at us with narrowed eyes. Her face then lit when her gaze landed on Zhander.

"Mommy! Get me that toy!" The kid tugged her mother’s fur coat when the woman briefly lost herself at Zhander’s allure.

HMP!

"Kid, here’s twenty dollars. We’ll buy that toy from you." The man shameless reached for his wallet and dangled the money in front of Zach.

Zach gripped the toy, not a bit of intention on letting it go.

"We don’t want to sell it," I said and went in front of Zach, protecting him from the pigs’ disgusting stares.

The fat man gasped, staring at me. He then coughed when his wife elbowed him.

"Can’t you see my son is crying? Don’t you have any conscience?" The woman barked while walking in front of her husband, holding her fat crying kid by the arm.

I frowned and placed my hands on my waist.

"So what? My little boy won that toy fair and square." I glared at them, not backing down, ready to punch the daylights out from their annoying faces.

"Ma’am, it’s better if you accept the money . . . They are Mr. and Mrs. Svinyov," the stuff whispered, and the family of pigs puffed their chest.

I’m thinking, they must be one of the powerful families here in Finland.