On the Day I Was Kicked Out of the Wealthy Family, I Had a Flash Marriage with a Tycoon-Chapter 170: Don’t Stare

After mulling it over for a long time, Damian Rivers still couldn’t come up with a foolproof plan. He took a deep breath, grabbed his jacket, put it on, and strode out.

By the time Chloe Sterling and Chase Langdon came out of the office, Damian Rivers was nowhere to be seen.

"What’s up with that guy lately?" Chase Langdon stroked his chin. "Weird."

As Chloe Sterling walked down the stairs, she said, "If you’re so curious, why don’t you ask him?"

"I did. He wouldn’t say."

Chloe Sterling didn’t say anything else.

Chase asked, "You’re leaving already?"

As she stepped off the last stair, Chloe Sterling suddenly stopped. "Not yet." With that, she turned and walked into the nearby training room.

Chase Langdon smiled. "Want to spar for a round?"

Chloe Sterling refused. "No, thanks."

Chase Langdon froze. ’It was rare for him to offer to train with her, yet she’d actually turned him down. Usually, it was Chloe who asked him to spar, and he was the one who refused.’

’Her loss.’

He went to sit on the side, sipping his tea and watching her punch and kick a dummy, just like Damian had been doing a moment ago.

’Something seemed off about his junior sister, too.’

Jean Kensington dawdled for quite a while before finally arriving at the Sinclair Residence.

"Miss Kensington, the young master is waiting for you on the second floor," the butler said.

Jean Kensington paused for a moment at his words, then said, "I’m not here to see President Sinclair. I’m looking for Dean Lynch."

The butler smiled. "I know. You’re here to pick up your child, aren’t you? Mr. Lynch had to step out, so your child is upstairs playing with the young master."

"Oh." Jean Kensington glanced upstairs. "I see. Thank you."

"You’re welcome. Please, go on up."

Jean Kensington scratched her head and muttered under her breath, "Why did Uncle leave the baby with Tristan Sinclair again!"

When she reached the second-floor living room, Jean Kensington looked all around but didn’t see a single soul.

"Baby, Mommy’s here to pick you up. Where are you?"

"Baby..."

"Adrian Kensington???"

The villa was simply enormous. She’d been wandering around the second floor alone for ten minutes, but she still hadn’t seen a trace of her son or heard the slightest sound.

Just as she was about to head back downstairs, a door suddenly opened, and a man’s voice called out, "Over here."

Jean Kensington looked toward the sound and saw Tristan Sinclair standing in a bedroom doorway, wearing a bathrobe. His tousled, wet hair was still dripping with water; he’d clearly just taken a shower.

"Wh... what?" Jean Kensington froze in place, unable to move.

"Your son is over here," Tristan Sinclair said.

Jean Kensington didn’t move. She stayed where she was and said, "Then you can have him come out."

"He’s asleep. You go in and wake him."

"You can just wake him up. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to go into your bedroom."

"This isn’t my bedroom. It’s just a guest room." 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

"Then why are you showering here in broad daylight?" Jean Kensington blurted out.

Tristan Sinclair replied, "Your son accidentally spilled juice on me."

Jean Kensington: "...I’m sorry."

"Are you still not coming over?" Tristan Sinclair suddenly chuckled, teasing her. "What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll do something to you?"

"Who’s afraid!" Jean Kensington cleared her throat. "I just thought it was your bedroom, so I shouldn’t just barge in." With that, she walked over.

Tristan Sinclair turned and went back inside, and Jean Kensington followed him into the room.

On the large, soft bed, the little boy was sleeping soundly. But Jean Kensington found it strange. ’My baby never sleeps well in unfamiliar places. How can he be sleeping so peacefully here!’

She quickly walked over, checked her son’s breathing, and felt his forehead. He was indeed breathing, and he didn’t have a fever.

Beside them, the color drained from Tristan Sinclair’s handsome face. He grit his teeth. "Jean Kensington! What do you think you’re doing? Are you worried I hurt him?"

"No," Jean Kensington explained. "My baby usually can’t sleep in unfamiliar places. I was just surprised he was sleeping so soundly here."

Just then, the little one’s eyelids twitched. He slowly opened his eyes and stared blankly for a second, as if he thought he was dreaming. Then he blinked and called out uncertainly, "Mommy?"

Jean Kensington gently pinched his little cheek. "It’s Mommy. How did you fall asleep? Did you stay up late playing on the computer again last night?"

"No, I was just a little sleepy. Mommy, are you here to get me?"

"Yes, I am. Wake up a little, and we’ll go home." Jean Kensington paused, then looked at Tristan Sinclair. "President Sinclair, thank you. I’m sorry for all the trouble."

Sitting on the armchair nearby, Tristan Sinclair watched the pair with his captivating eyes and suddenly asked, "Where’s his father?"

Jean Kensington’s heart skipped a beat, as if she’d recalled a bad memory. She pursed her lips and said, "He’s missing. Probably got abducted and sold."

The baby: "..."

Tristan Sinclair scoffed. "Abducted and sold, or just run off with another woman?"

’She must have met some scumbag when she was young and naive,’ he thought. ’The guy ran off, and she still went ahead and had his child.’

’So stupid!’

He muttered another complaint, "What terrible taste!"

Jean Kensington opened her mouth to retort, but her gaze fell on his open collar, and she froze.

Noticing her stare, Tristan Sinclair deliberately used his slender fingers to pull his bathrobe closed. "My eyes are up here."

Jean Kensington: "...You’re the one who had it open."

She averted her gaze and looked at her son. "Baby, let’s go. We’re going home."

"Okay." The baby nodded and obediently got up.

Jean Kensington helped him into his little windbreaker, lifted him off the bed, and took his small hand. She looked at Tristan Sinclair again. "President Sinclair, we’ll be going now."

The baby looked at Tristan Sinclair, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Uncle Sinclair, goodbye."

Tristan Sinclair’s lips curled slightly. "Didn’t I tell you to call me Grand-Uncle?"

The baby: "..."

Jean Kensington: "..."

’This guy just loves pulling rank on us!’

Tristan Sinclair stopped teasing them. "Alright, go on. Be careful on your way out."

Jean Kensington murmured her assent and left with the baby.

Once their figures had disappeared, Tristan Sinclair suddenly felt the room become empty and uncomfortably quiet. It was the first time he’d ever felt this way.

He suddenly stood up and walked out onto the balcony to look down. A moment later, two figures, one large and one small, appeared in the courtyard, holding hands. The sight was unexpectedly heartwarming.

Tristan Sinclair was lost in the moment, then felt a flicker of surprise at his own reaction. ’How could he possibly find a scene like this heartwarming?’

’He had no desire for relationships, marriage, or children—in fact, he actively avoided them and had already resigned himself to a life alone.’

But the daze lasted only a moment. He quickly composed himself, convinced it had just been a trick of the mind.

「In the car.」

The baby suddenly asked, "Mommy, do you really not know where Daddy is?"

Jean Kensington looked at her little one. "I’m sorry, baby, Mommy really doesn’t know. Do you... want a daddy that much? What kind would you like? How about... Mommy finds one for you?"

The baby was a little speechless. After a moment, he said, "I’d rather you didn’t."

’I’d better find one myself.’