Mr. Fairchild's Rose: She is Wild and Proud-Chapter 318 - 215: Keane’s Eyes Are Exactly Like Yours (3)
There was a red footprint on the man’s chin!
Keane focused for a moment, then burst into laughter, "Haha, serves you right for trying to catch me."
Julian Fairchild moved his jaw, where the little brat had fiercely kicked him, and it was swelling visibly.
The once unparalleled handsome face now appeared "black and white," with even thin lips imprinted with black shoe prints!
Julian Fairchild touched his jaw in disbelief, exuding a chilling aura that made one shudder, like the embodiment of the Lord of Hell. Keane felt he was like one of those corrupted monsters Ultraman fought, the king of monsters!
Julian Fairchild’s face was extremely dark, and in his anger, he laughed and said, "You little brat, if I don’t teach you a lesson today, you can say I’m lying!"
Jace Keane gulped, quickly scrambled up from the ground, and dashed away, "Help, help, help—!"
"Get over here!"
"No—!"
...
The next morning.
Sarah Sutton woke up slowly in the hospital.
Maeve Lane had been up for a long while and was now doing some stretching exercises on the balcony. For safety and secrecy, Miles Hughes had arranged a high-class VIP room for Sarah Sutton.
Hearing some noise, Maeve Lane turned around, beads of sweat still glistening on her forehead, her skin looking almost translucent in the morning light. Her ear lobe was especially pale, thin as paper.
Early in the morning, Sarah Sutton witnessed such a beautiful image of exercise. By all rights, she should have been in a good mood, but there was no cheering her up now.
Maeve Lane pushed the door open, wiping her sweat with a white towel around her neck, "Sarah, how do you feel?"
"Fair, I won’t die." Sarah muffled her voice from under the blanket.
"If they want to bad-mouth, let them. I did hit someone, but Sylvia Lane was asking for it." Maeve Lane said as she went to the bathroom to rinse off the sweat.
"Hmm, but that’s not why..."
"Not because of that? Is there something worse?" Maeve Lane paused washing her face.
Sarah Sutton, weakly, said, "At this point, you’re still trying to hide it from me?"
"What am I hiding from you?"
"The kid!" Sarah suddenly sat up, like a resurrected corpse, and lamented to the ceiling, "Such a big kid! You’re still trying to keep it from me?!"
Maeve Lane paused a moment and tentatively said, "Kid? You mean Keane?"
"The one who called Miles Hughes ’Uncle’ yesterday."
"He’s a kid Julian Fairchild found outside MS Entertainment. They haven’t found his family yet, so he’s staying at my apartment for now."
Sarah Sutton, like a ghost, used a soft, elusive voice, "Do you think I’ll believe such an outrageous story?"
Maeve Lane: "..."
"Fairchild can just pick up a kid randomly?! His family isn’t worried he went missing and wouldn’t issue a missing person alert?" Sarah grabbed Maeve Lane’s hand, her eyes flashing with a betrayed light, shooting questions like bullets.
"It’s just a coincidence." Maeve Lane didn’t know how to explain.
But that’s the truth.
Although it does sound a bit unreliable.
Sarah Sutton hung her head gloomily, "Sure enough, feelings do change, Maeve, you don’t have to lie to me, my heart can handle it, actually...
She sniffed, "quite well."
Maeve Lane: "..."
"But Maeve, you’re really bad at lying. At least come up with a more believable excuse for me." Sarah sighed lightly, "Like it’s a kid from Fairchild’s previous marriage, or maybe Fairchild’s little brother or something."
Maeve Lane: "..."
"Isn’t that even more outrageous?"
"That’s still more credible than your excuse. The kid looks obviously related to Fairchild." Sarah took a deep breath, trying to digest the news.
"How so?"
Upon hearing Sarah’s words, Maeve Lane felt as if something she’d overlooked was now surfacing, but it wasn’t quite clear yet.
"The look, like you said, Keane, just a glance and you can see he’s made from Fairchild’s mold. Oh, and," Sarah showed a loving "elder" gaze, looking at Maeve Lane as if she were a daughter already married off.
"Except for the eyes."
Maeve Lane stared blankly as Sarah used her hand to trace from the corner of her own eye down to the vicinity of the lower eyelid.
"Keane’s eyes are exactly like yours."
