Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar

”Daddy, even though you once tried to kill Mommy and me, I still miss you. I love you, Daddy. Mommy said you’re getting married, so I hope you have your own baby soon. Now, I’ll let Mommy say a few things.”

After she finished speaking, the camera panned over to Chloe Marshall.

Seeing her again, Lillian Bancroft couldn’t quite describe what he was truly feeling.

His hand gently caressed her face on the screen, unable to forget the first time he ever laid eyes on her.

That one glance had felt like an eternity.

Her eyes were always as clear as water, as pure as a fresh spring.

The woman who should have been his wife was now lost to him forever.

’I thought she’d never want to see me again, that she’d never forgive me.’

’But I never expected she’d be willing to let me be Dorothy’s godfather.’

’The chance to see her again... that’s more important than anything.’

As he watched her speak, he felt as if her gaze was fixed solely on him. Her words flowed into his heart, and the icy defenses he had built up crumbled completely.

Even though they couldn’t stay together, the years he’d spent with her by his side had been incredibly precious.

No one could ever take her place.

”Silly, I’ll never forget that you were the one who saved me. I remember how good you were to me. As for everything else... I’m choosing to forget. Silly, I failed to keep the promise I made to your nanny. I hope another woman can. I hope she can love you with all her heart, and that you’ll love her just as much. That’s my wish for you. You have to be happy.”

Those final words deeply breached his defenses.

He turned off the device, placed the letter that came with it back in the express mailer, stood up, and walked out of the room holding the package.

Quinn Sullivan was standing there; she had overheard everything Chloe Marshall said in the video.

She had clearly seen his dejected expression and his red-rimmed eyes.

She sat back down on the edge of the bed, stretched, then lay down and quickly fell asleep.

Lillian Bancroft returned to the study, put the items away, and then wrote a reply. It contained only a single sentence: ”I will. I’m willing to be Dorothy’s godfather for as long as I live, and I want to see you again.”

He then had the letter express-mailed to Fravia, and the gloom that had settled in his heart vanished.

Sometimes, letting go is its own form of love.

”Son, you’re about to turn thirty. Tell me, when are you finally going to get married?” Mrs. Lynch said with a sigh, sitting across from Leon Lynch.

”Mom, stop nagging me about marriage. If I wanted to get married, I would. And please, stop inviting Maeve Sutton over. I’m completely sick of it.”

Mrs. Lynch was fuming, but there was nothing she could do about her son.

”She likes you a lot...”

”A lot of women like me. Do you want me to have them all visit our house every day? I see you won’t stop her from coming, so fine. I’ll move out today.”

Mrs. Lynch grew frantic. ”Leon! Are you trying to kill me with worry? Fine! I’ll tell her not to come anymore, alright?”

Leon Lynch stood up. ”Good. I have to get back to the office. I won’t be home for dinner.”

Mrs. Lynch had always considered Nora Ainsworth the main culprit behind her son’s refusal to marry, but she was powerless to do anything about it.

After stewing on it, she concluded that her son’s marriage prospects were cursed. She changed her clothes and had a car take her to a place renowned for its accurate fortune-tellers to have her son’s fortune told.

The fortune she received drove her into a greater panic. It predicted that her son might remain a bachelor his entire life, and even if a miracle occurred, it wouldn’t be for several more years.

Forgetting about the ”bachelor for life” part for a moment, even waiting several years was a disaster. By then, he’d be well into his thirties!

Mrs. Lynch left with an even heavier heart than when she’d arrived. Her son’s continued single status was a constant, nagging weight on her mind.

At this point, she actually started to feel a bit of regret. ’If I hadn’t stopped him from marrying Nora Ainsworth back then,’ she thought, ’I might be holding my grandchild right now. As much as I dislike her, it’s still better than him never marrying at all. He’s the only heir the Lynch Family has.’

In stark contrast to her agonizing anxiety, the man at the center of it all, Leon Lynch, wasn’t the least bit concerned.

After spending the afternoon at the office, he drove off around dinnertime, planning to find a restaurant. However, feeling it would be too lonely to eat by himself, he instead drove to an upscale apartment complex and found himself standing at Quentin Grant’s front door.

”Is Nora cooking? You’re so lazy,” he said, wasting no time in teasing Quentin Grant, who was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine.

”People who show up to freeload a meal don’t get a say. Just eat your food and be quiet,” Quentin retorted coolly.

Leon Lynch coughed dryly. ”What’s this? Are you trying to suppress a citizen’s freedom of speech now?”

”My house, my rules.”

Leon Lynch walked over to the dining table, where Dylan and Elmer Grant were doing their homework. ”Are you two drawing?”

”Yeah, it’s our homework. The teacher told us to draw a picture of our parents from our perspective. Godfather, should we include you in the drawing?”

Leon Lynch’s face lit up. ”Of course! Even if there’s a ’god’ in front of ’father,’ I’m still a father. You have to include me.”

Quentin Grant put down his magazine and stood up, snorting in disapproval. ”Why would the godfather be in it? Sons, just draw Mommy and Daddy. You can automatically ignore your godfather.”

Leon Lynch ignored him, turning to the boys. ”Dylan, Elmer, you’re not actually going to obey your daddy, are you? No way, right? You two have your own opinions, don’t you? And you’re not ungrateful, are you? Just think, back when your daddy didn’t even know you existed, who was it that helped your mommy raise you through all the hard times? That was all your godfather! This so-called ’real dad’ of yours did none of it!”

Dylan Grant nodded. ”Godfather, Elmer and I remember. We love you, Godfather.”

Leon Lynch was moved to tears. ”Good boys. Your godfather loves you, too.”

Quentin Grant’s mouth twitched. ”Playing the sympathy card, Leon? Is that the best you can do?”

Leon Lynch straightened up, a smirk playing on his lips. ”Whether a cat is black or white, it’s a good cat as long as it catches mice. Good methods, sneaky tricks—it’s all strategy.”

Quentin Grant huffed. ”Sons, Daddy’s a little curious. What are you two drawing Mommy and Daddy to look like?”

Dylan nodded. ”We’re almost done. Just a second.”

A few minutes later, he announced, ”All done! Daddy, come take a look.”

Quentin Grant hurried over. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw. The sight nearly gave him a heart attack.

”You drew Mommy so beautifully, and with two braids, too. Anyone would mistake her for your older sister. But, son... tell Daddy, who is this person with a lion’s head and a human body?” he asked, a sense of dread welling up inside him.

Dylan replied without missing a beat, ”That’s you, of course.”

Quentin Grant’s face fell. ”Why do I look like that?”

Dylan tilted his head. ”I don’t know. That’s just how I see you in my head, Daddy.”

Quentin Grant then pointed to the figure standing next to Nora Ainsworth’s portrait. ”And who is this tall, rich, and handsome guy?”

”That’s Godfather, of course,” Dylan said. ”Daddy, you already have Mommy. Aren’t I allowed to make my godfather look good? If I don’t, no one will ever marry him.”