Chapter 115
Ambrose, ever the gracious host, took Harry to his favorite seafood restaurant. Harry wasted no time diving into the meal with enthusiasm, oblivious to his manners as he savored each bite of the delicious feast.
“Why aren’t you eating, Uncle Ambrose?” Harry asked, mouth full as he looked up at Ambrose, who seemed content to watch him eat.
“I’m not hungry. You go ahead, Caspian,” Ambrose replied, his gaze softening as he observed the child.
“Okay, then I won’t hold back,” Harry said, grinning, and resumed eating with gusto.
After a few moments of quiet eating, Ambrose called out, his voice hesitant, “Caspian.”
“Hmm? What’s up?” Harry responded, chewing on his food.
Ambrose carefully broached a delicate topic. “Is your mommy Orion?”
The mention of his mother made Harry’s nerves tense. He didn’t like talking about Orion, especially when he was pretending to be Caspian. But since the question was coming from Ambrose and he was posing as Caspian, Harry gave a reluctant nod. “Yeah, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing much,” Ambrose said casually. “Your mom is a big star. I’ve seen her movies; she’s a beautiful and great actress.”
Harry snorted, not bothering to filter his opinion. “Is that so? Then your taste isn’t that good. I think her acting is terrible.”
Ambrose awkwardly smiled, clearly understanding the underlying tension in Harry’s words. It was evident that Harry’s relationship with his mother was far from ideal. So, he changed the subject, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Caspian, do you know Galatea?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing.
This time, Harry’s nerves shot up. Why is he bringing up Galatea? He didn’t care about what others thought, but something about Ambrose’s question irked him. He couldn’t just ignore it.
“I do know her,” Harry replied coolly. “She’s currently my father’s fiancée and will be my future mom. So yeah, I do.”
Ambrose nodded, as though to himself, before continuing, “She has a pair of twins. Have you seen them?”
This question went beyond mere curiosity; it annoyed Harry. It felt like Ambrose was prying too much, and Harry didn’t like it.
“Let me ask, Uncle Ambrose,” Harry said, putting his utensils down. “Besides being my father’s business partner, do you have any other relationship with him?”
Ambrose blinked in surprise. “Not yet,” he replied, puzzled by the sudden directness of the question.
“Since that’s the case,” Harry continued, his voice firm, “your connection with him is only work-related. But you’re asking me about family matters. Isn’t that a bit weird?”
Ambrose was momentarily speechless, caught off guard by a child’s boldness. He hadn’t expected to be questioned so pointedly.
He cleared his throat, offering a weak smile. “Caspian, don’t think too much. I really admire your father and wanted to be friends with him, so I was curious.”
Harry, however, wasn’t having any of it. He responded coolly, “Well, you don’t understand him at all. He hates it when people inquire about him secretly. If you really want to be friends, just focus on your work. Anything else is unnecessary.”
Ambrose was taken aback. The sharpness in Harry’s voice and the resemblance to Alaric’s personality was unmistakable. It reminded him of how Alaric had always kept people at arm’s length, rarely letting anyone close.
Ambrose went silent, realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the child. He watched as Harry finished his meal, still in awe of the child’s insatiable appetite.
“Uncle Ambrose, thank you for treating me today,” Harry said once he’d finally slowed down, looking up with a smile. “I’m very satisfied with the meal.”
“As long as you enjoyed it,” Ambrose said, offering his hand. “Since you’re full, I’ll take you home, okay?”
“Sure,” Harry agreed, getting up from his seat and heading toward the door.
As they climbed into Ambrose’s car, Harry was once again curious. “Do you know Galatea, Uncle Ambrose?” he asked, not missing a beat.
“Yes, I do. I met her at the groundbreaking feast,” Ambrose answered, his voice a little guarded now.
“Oh, what do you think of her?” Harry pressed.
Ambrose paused, considering his response carefully. “She’s beautiful. Stunningly so,” he finally said, his tone neutral.
Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Did you fall in love with her, too?”
This question took Ambrose completely off guard. Both he and Denny, the driver, froze for a second, their eyes wide with surprise.
Ambrose let out a startled chuckle, trying to regain his composure. “You’re just a kid. How could you understand love?”
Harry crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Uncle Ambrose, you’re being old-fashioned. We all understand that term nowadays; after all, several girls in my class have crushes on me and even want to marry me.”
Ambrose and Denny both blinked in disbelief, unsure of how to respond to a six-year-old’s level of sophistication.
“Well, she’s indeed perfect,” Harry continued. “It’s natural to fall for her, but she’s my dad’s girlfriend now. If you get any ideas, you’d be a homewrecker, and that’s immoral.”
Ambrose couldn’t find the words to reply. He stared at Harry for a moment, stunned into silence. The child’s bluntness and insight left him at a loss.
The car eventually arrived at the Knight family villa. Harry bounced out of the car, grinning. “Uncle Ambrose, I really enjoyed dinner with you today. If you ever need someone to eat with, feel free to ask me,” he said before running up to the front door.
Ambrose was still processing their conversation as Denny turned the car around. Once they were on the road, he turned to Denny. “Kids are really naughty.”
Denny nodded, glancing in the rearview mirror. “He’s a handful, that one. But don’t you think he looks just like Stellan’s son?”
Ambrose stiffened, his mind racing. “Yes, which genuinely shocked me. I thought you were bringing out Ms. Rook’s son.”
Denny’s confusion was evident. “Is it possible for two people to look so identical? Even sharing the same age, too?”
Ambrose’s mind was working overtime. Could it be mere coincidence?
“It can’t just be coincidence,” he murmured, his voice tinged with suspicion.
Denny turned to him, unsure. “What do you mean, CEO Ambrose?”
Ambrose, deep in thought, didn’t answer right away. After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice contemplative. “Do you think it’s possible Stellan actually had triplets?”
Denny was slow to process the suggestion, his mind struggling to catch up. “Wait, are you saying those three kids are Ms. Rook and Alaric’s? That can’t be true. It’s widely known that Alaric’s son came from Orion.”
Ambrose frowned, the gears in his mind turning. “Caspian is six this year. If we calculate the time, he was conceived when Alaric was still comatose.”
Denny glanced at him, shocked by the implications of what Ambrose was suggesting. “But if Alaric was in a coma at that time, how could he have a child?”
“There’s only one possibility,” Ambrose said quietly, his jaw tightening. “Artificial insemination.”
Denny’s face turned pale as the realization hit him. “So you’re saying Stellan was used as a vessel for the Knights to have children?”
Ambrose clenched his fists, his heart heavy with anger. “If that’s true, I’ll hate Alaric for it, and I’ll feel heartbroken.”
“But if that’s the case,” Denny added, “how did she manage to live alone with two children for so many years abroad? And how could Mrs. Marigold let her grandchildren fall into such a situation?”
“There are a lot of inconsistencies here,” Ambrose said darkly. “There must be many hidden truths that no one knows. But no matter what, if the Knight family dares to humiliate Stellan, I won’t forgive them.”
His expression hardened, his mind set on uncovering whatever secrets lay buried within the family’s past. He would not rest until the truth was revealed.