the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart-Chapter 781: Father and Son’s First Confrontation
When the call came through, Ignatius Leclair was at home having a father-son conversation with Nicholas Carter.
Ignatius Leclair was a first-time father, stumbling his way through parenting, making it up as he went along. Raising Benjamin Leclair from a young age, he’d poured all his life philosophies into the little girl, molding the five-year-old Benjamin into an early-maturing, clever, and charming child with a streak of calculated cunning.
Nicholas, however, was different. His temperament was gentler and more innocent. Though precocious and smart, there was always a subtle distance in how he engaged with people.
Ignatius had noticed this immediately upon meeting the boy; the resemblance in personality between Nicholas and his mother was unmistakable.
Taking advantage of the courtroom battle having just ended and chaos reigning outside, Ignatius stayed home, watching the young boy engrossed in his book. Feeling gratified, he said lightly, "Your mommy loved reading as much as you do. When she was pregnant with you and Benjamin, her favorite thing was lying on the balcony and reading every day."
Nicholas perked up his ears, thoroughly confused. His dark eyes remained on his book, but his young mind was racing, quickly analyzing the meaning behind Uncle Ignatius’s words.
The boy had a vague inkling of something, and now that Ignatius brought it up, he couldn’t hold back any longer. In a soft, sticky voice, he asked, "Mommy says I’m the big brother."
Ignatius squinted his almond-shaped eyes, the corners lifting into a smile. He ruffled the boy’s little head and laughed, "You were born a few minutes earlier than Benjamin. You’re the big brother."
Nicholas quietly calculated in his heart. Mommy was Benjamin’s mommy, he was Benjamin’s big brother, so Benjamin’s daddy must also be his daddy.
Nicholas’s pretty little face fell. Every child harbored fantasies about their father, imagining them as powerful beings like Transformers, Superman, or Iron Man.
But he still felt that Uncle Si next door was much cooler. He wished Uncle Si could be his daddy.
Ignatius, with an intelligence nearing the supernatural, instantly saw through the boy’s thoughts. His deep almond-shaped eyes narrowed as he glanced at Yeats Howard, who was sprawled on the couch playing games. Rising, he gave Yeats a kick and said, expressionless, "Warm-up exercises."
Yeats Howard was in the heat of an intense battle in his game. He looked up at the words, let out an "Ah!", and hurriedly hid his gaming console like he’d been caught with flames under his seat.
Half an hour later, Yeats was lying on the ground, tongue out, refusing to get up. He wailed, "Uncle, my dear uncle, I really can’t anymore! Someone’s going to die here. If something happens to me, the Howard family will have no heir left, waaaaah!"
Oh my God, why is this uncle so crazy? Why fencing out of all things? Yeats looked at the two little kids on the side, clapping their hands red and filled with admiration. He wanted to cry but had no tears left. They were absolutely the biological children of their father.
"What about boxing?" The man lazily asked as he stylishly stripped off his jacket, his deep almond eyes boring into Yeats.
Boxing was his thing! Yeats excitedly flipped up like a fish, but the moment he saw his uncle’s ice-cold gaze, he instantly deflated. Damn it, when you’re under someone’s roof, you have to bow your head. If he dared land a punch on his uncle, he’d be sent straight back to the Imperial City tonight.
"No way, I can’t beat you at boxing," Yeats said weakly.
"Baseball?" The man raised an eyebrow.
Yeats shook his head repeatedly, unable to lift his gaze under the bright, shining stares of the two little spectators. His heart was bleeding. Once upon a time, when he ran rampant through the Imperial City, as the infamous bully Yeats Howard, he was undefeated in any fight. But against the man before him, he dared not even raise a hand.
"Daddy is amazing!" Benjamin clapped her little hands excitedly. Beside her, Nicholas’s bright eyes lit up. It seemed like this daddy wasn’t that bad after all.
Ignatius walked over, patted the little girl’s head, and then asked the pretty little boy, "Want to learn? Call me daddy, and I’ll teach you."
