Chapter 244 Whose Child Is It


    In the cloak of the night, nestled in the narrow alley, stood an age-worn dwelling.


    Henry’s gaze was fixated on his younger sister, who he had doted on for many years. He examined her


    attire, in to the point of austerity, and the crumbling structure that served as her shelter.


    His eyes throbbed with a sting that could not be suppressed, and the fingers that clutched his cigarette


    trembled subtly.


    Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, he stepped inside the ce and scanned around. “Where’s the


    kid?”


    Melora was taken aback. “Has Crystal told you?”


    Henry responded in a helpless tone, “Do you expect her to help you keep it a secret and watch as you


    continue living in this squalor? Whose child is it?”


    Up until that moment, he was truly oblivious to the identity of the child’s father.


    Melora wouldn’t let him in the room.


    Henry extinguished his cigarette, exhaling thest puff of smoke. “Who is it?”


    No matter who the father was, he wanted to beat him up so badly and break his teeth.


    Melora blocked the door, pleading in a hushed voice, “Berthold and I are doing fine. Henry, I can


    support him on my own. Please don’t ask anymore!”


    Henry’s eyes reddened.


    He was but half a step away from her. With an outstretched arm, he pulled her to the side and entered


    the room.


    The bedroom was of meager proportion, not even covering ten square meters.


    An aged bed and a tiny desk housing several dozen magazines was all it contained.


    Henry flicked through the trashy magazines, all showcasing Melora on the cover, the youngdy of the


    Miller family.


    He swallowed hard, making his way toward the old bed.


    On it,y a small child, slumbering peacefully.


    His skin was fair, and he had a full head of dark brown hair.


    Henry’s eyes turned bloodshot at the familiar eyes and unique hair color.


    He no longer needed to ask Melora who the father was, as there was no need to do so anymore!


    Henry whirled around, his eyes burning holes into his little sister.


    Melora’s lips quivered, and her face contorted in distress as she pleaded, “Henry, don’t look for him!


    Don’t… I’ve broken up with him.”


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    Henry reached out, tenderly touching the little boy.


    He paused and asked gently, “Him? Which him? Melora, tell me.”


    Melora covered her mouth in shock.


    It dawned on her that Henry must have realized who the father was.


    Henry’s voice was dangerously low as he said, “When did you two be a thing? Do you understand


    what you’re doing? He’s at least ten years older than you. A man of his stature, in his forties and still


    unmarried, has had his share of meeting women from all walks of life, so why would he be attracted to


    a greenhorn like you?”


    Melora was crushed.


    She knew she had been punching above her weight.


    Henry didn’t ask anymore. He took off his coat, put it on little Berthold, and gently lifted.


    “Henry!” Melora clutched his arm, begging.


    In the dim light, Henry’s expression was as calm as still water. “Either youe home with me now, or


    I call Alfred to pick you and your son up. You decide.”


    Melora had no choice.


    She packed some clothes and followed Henry.


    As they descended the stairs, Berthold awoke.


    He stared at Henry with a hint of fear in his expression, but he didn’t cry.


    Henry patted his head, assuring gently, “I am your uncle. Your mommy is here too.”


    Seeing Melora, Berthold rxed, closing his eyes.


    Henry’s heart ached as he delicately ced the little boy into the child seat in his car, then turned to his


    sister.


    Melora silently slid into the car, murmuring, “Could you not tell Mom and Dad for now?”


    “You’re afraid now?”


    Henry let out a sneer and closed the car door. He made his way around the front of the car and got in.


    He was infuriated and wanted to smoke. However, he refrained from doing so out of consideration for


    the small child.


    After a long silence, he gently stepped on the elerator.


    Half an hourter, the car slowly pulled into the mansion’s grand entrance.


    He hadn’t intended to disturb Crystal for she had her own worries. The sound of the opening. and


    closing of the door stirred her awake. She slipped on her robe and quietly rose.


    Standing in the stairwell, she saw Henry holding Berthold, with Melora trailing behind.


    Crystal froze for a moment.


    Henry spoke in a hushed tone. “Let Berthold sleep with Skyler tonight. You go and talk with Melora.”


    Crystal nodded.


    As she ascended the staircase again, she opened the door for him.


    With Berthold nestled in his arms, Henry entered, gingerly tucking the tiny boy into the warm bed where


    Crystal hadid.


    Perhaps the bed was too soft, or the day had been too long, for the child drifted off without stirring.


    Skyler awoke just a sliver, her eyes cracking open into slits before she rolled over, pulling Berthold


    close to her as if she was cuddling a puppy.


    Their faces, fair as porcin and finely chiseled, were strikingly simr, as were their dark brown hair.


    Henry felt his heart soften at the sight.


    He caressed Skyler’s head and patted Berthold. “This child takes after his father.”


    Crystal, taken aback, wore her guilt on her sleeve.


    Turning back, Henry spoke in a tender voice. “You must have figured out who the old scoundrel is,


    right?”


    His words came out more vulgar than he intended.


    Crystal said softly, “Don’t let the children hear you. We’ll talk tomorrow.”


    He shot her a fierce re, but times had changed.


    Crystal who was once frightened now wore an armor of courage. “Don’t take your anger out on me,”


    she warned him boldly as she exited the room. “I had nothing to do with this.”


    Henry eased the tense look on his face.


    He grasped her hand. “Stay with Melora. I’ll head to the study for a smoke.”


    Again, Crystal agreed with a nod.


    In truth, they had unresolved matters between them, grievances yet addressed. Yet, when faced with


    the situations at home, they instinctively leaned on one another for support.


    What am I to do? After all, I am Melora’s brother, and Crystal is her sister-inw.


    temper. Crystal led Melora to the guest room. Softly, she began, “Don’t mind your brother’s Let’s


    freshen up first. Let me prepare some snacks for you- your favorite fried chicken.”


    Just as Crystal was about to step out, Melora held on tightly.


    A tidal wave of emotion washed over her heart.


    Patting Melora’s hand, she reassured, “You should havee back sooner. Your brother is really


    angry.”


    Melora called out in a soft voice, “Crystal.”


    Crystal straightened her hair gently and said, “I’ll go prepare something for us to eat. You take a bath


    first. Everything you need is in there.”


    Melora nodded.


    Crystal then went to prepare the snack. By the time everything was ready, Melora hade


    downstairs.


    She was dressed in her own cotton pajamas, the kind where the vibrant colors were nearly washed out.


    Crystal noticed.


    She held back any remark and beckoned with a tremble in her voice, “Come and eat. Everything here


    is your favorite.”


    Melora sat down and began to cat.


    Unlike before, she was silent, no longer the chatterbox who couldn’t stop talking like a print machine on


    a roll.


    Crystal simply kept herpany.


    After finishing the meal, Melora’s eyes were filled with tears. “Crystal, I’m scared. He couldn’t marry me


    back then, and now… I’ve nearly forgotten him.”


    How could she dwell on it?


    For the past two years, she had single-handedly raised their child, living a tough life worrying about


    sustenance like milk powder and rent.


    Melora and Alfred had shared good times together. However, they were swept away by the winds of


    time just like fleeting clouds.


    asionally, she would spot him in the newspaper. He was still the dignified and spirited. Alfred


    Lodge.


    Meanwhile, she, Melora Miller, had lost her youthful radiance. Moreover, the passage of time had


    tamed her.


    In a gentle voice, Crystal said, “Your brother will, after all, need to vent his anger. But he would never


    hurt Berthold.” She could not promise Melora anything.


    The poor girl nodded tearfully.


    After settling Melora in, Crystal went to see Henry in the study.


    She pushed open the heavy door of the study. The room was dim, save for a single wallmp that was


    lit.


    Henry sat behind the desk, smoking. The ashtray before him was filled to the brim, a clear sign of his


    inner turmoil.


    Crystal closed the door behind her, walked to the window, and cracked it open.


    She murmured, “You’re smoking too much! Aren’t you afraid of choking?”


    Henry watched her in silence.


    Tonight was different from any other night, as Crystal voluntarily approached him, sat on hisp, and


    tenderly embraced him.


    Henry snuffed out the cigarette and leaned into her shoulder.


    They sat in this shared silence for a long while before he finally spoke in a hoarse whisper, “Crystal,


    have I failed? If I hadn’t insisted on going to Kingdom of Brund back then, your uncle and Melora


    may not have had the chance to get together. Those days Alfred spent in the hospital must have been


    a breeding ground for their affection.”


    Crystal asked softly, “Would you have agreed?”


    Henry pinched her waist lightly, “Why don’t you ask my parents this? Seems like you think I’m easier to


    convince, so you’reying the groundwork with me, nning to make me persuade my parentster,


    right?”


    Crystal didn’t deny it. She slowly leaned her face into his. Henry’s face was burning hot.


    After a long pause, he asked again in a low voice, “Are you speaking on behalf of your uncle or


    pleading for Melora?”


    Crystal shook her head.


    She hugged him tightly, her voice soft and tender. “Neither! I’m doing it for the child.”


    Henry remained silent.


    Crystal was clever. She could read his thoughts.


    Indeed, his only concern now was for the child, angry as he was with both Melora and that old fool. She


    yed her card right by softly mentioning the child. In a way, Crystal had him. figured out perfectly.


    Cupping his handsome face, Crystal gently kissed Henry, saying, “Regardless of everything, can we


    maintain the dignity of the child? He is destined to grow up in the Miller family, go to school, get


    married, and have children.”


    She was truly persuasive. Crystal looked deeply into his eyes. “He shares your bloodline, after all.”


    A soft chuckle escaped Henry’s lips.


    Pulling her closer, he rested his forehead against hers. “But he does look strikingly simr to that


    scoundrel.”


    Crystal offered no retort.


    She kissed him softly, melting his defenses with her feminine tenderness.


    Holding her slender waist, Henry ran his hands up and down, his voice barely a whisper. “Crystal, do


    you think


    you can resolve this situation by offering yourself? Let me tell you, even if we make love tonight, it


    won’t change anything. Besides, I hope for our reconciliation. to be genuine, our intimacy a natural


    progression of our mutual affection… not for the sake of anyone… but simply because we desire each


    other.”


    Crystal stopped her advances.


    She leaned into his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating from his neck, the rhythm of his heartbeat,


    and whispered, “Henry, it seems you’ve developed much stronger self-control.”


    There was a hint of disagreement in his deep-set gaze.


    “Crystal, you are my wife, and I want to respect you. I want you to feel trulyfortable, to savor every


    minute and second spent with me as a cherished memory.”


    Crystal couldn’t listen anymore.


    Isn’t he supposed to be angry? Where is all this tender talking from?


    She rose from hisp, quietly adjusting her nightgown. But Henry pulled her back, and their lips


    pressed in a long,nguid kiss. After a while, he murmured, “Sleep in the master bedroom tonight.”


    Crystal did not refuse this time.


    As a matter of fact, she knew he was not in the mood for anything more tonight.


    As shey in the grand bed of the master bedroom, she reflected quietly. The problem between Henry


    and her was primarily their emotional struggles.


    As for Melora and her uncle, the situation was far moreplicated.


    Crystal pondered a lot. In the twilight between sleep and wakefulness, she heard the sound of a car


    starting from downstairs.


    She froze for a moment, immediately rising and running upstairs.


    Henry’s car was already gone.


    She quickly asked the housekeeper, “Where did Mr. Miller go?”


    The housekeeper shook her head, indicating she didn’t know.


    At this point, Melora came running down the stairs, her face ashen. She, too, had guessed something.


    Crystal softly reassured her, “Don’t worry, I’ll ask Jamie.”


    It waste at night, and she was careful not to disturb anyone, her voice especially courteous.


    Jamie promptly informed her, “Mr. Miller has arranged a private jet to fly to Coldbridge.”


    Crystal thanked her before hanging up.


    She turned to Melora and said, “Your brother has gone to Coldbridge.”


    Melora clutched Crystal’s hand tightly. “Crystal, I’m scared.”


    Crystal felt helpless too. Henry’s phone was already off. There was no way to stop him from going to


    Coldbridge.


    She hugged Melora and softly suggested, “Perhaps… we should let them have it out?”