Asher couldn’t get enough of the new bubble machine. Even after playing outside, he continued at home, spraying bubbles all over the floor. Isabella was at her wit’s end. Despite coaxing and deceiving, she couldn’t get the bubble machine away.
“You should talk less. If you’re so capable, why don’t you take the bubble machine away?” Isabella vented her frustration at Andrew.
Thoughts ran through her mind: “If you’re capable, go ahead. Your son not making a fuss would be strange.”
However, all she saw was Andrew walking up to Asher, his handsome face slightly stern, extending his palm, and simply saying, “Hand it over.”
Asher obediently surrendered the bubble machine, although he pouted, indicating his displeasure, yet he didn’t cry or make a scene.
Isabella watched with wide eyes. It seemed her son only bullied her; he surely was selective with his targets.
In frustration, she jumped off the couch, rolled up her sleeves, thinking, “Today, I must teach this brat a lesson.”
Yet when she angrily approached Asher, he extended his chubby little hand, calling out with a pleased expression, “Mom, hug!”
Isabella’s heart softened instantly, and she scooped her son into her arms.
Andrew frowned at the scene, thinking, “A doting mother often spoils the child.”
“Clean up the floor,” he instructed and then tossed the bubble blower into the trash before heading upstairs.
Isabella’s workload increased, and her time at home decreased. But whenever she returned, the apartment became unusually lively. An adult and a child were running around upstairs and downstairs, almost tearing down the roof.
Before Asher went to sleep, Andrew couldn’t focus on work.
Fortunately, Asher didn’t sleep this afternoon and went to bed early in the evening. However, as soon as Andrew opened his computer, Isabella knocked on the door.
“It’s just past seven; you can’t possibly sleep so early. Want to go out for a stroll?”
“With your popularity, aren’t you afraid of being followed by paparazzi?” Andrew teased.
“At this time, the paparazzi should be off duty. Come on, I’ll treat you to some barbecue,” Isabella threw him his coat and the two went out together.
Andrew thought Isabella was joking, but she actually brought him to an open-air food stall.
The barbecue grill was set up by the roadside, and the charcoal aroma filled the air, slightly pungent.
Isabella chose a less crowded spot and called over the stall owner to place the order.
“10 lamb skewers, 10 chicken skewers, 10 veggie and mushroom skewers, 5 chicken wings, oh, bring him a dozen beers,” she ordered.
Andrew: “…”
The stall wasn’t busy, so the owner only prepared one serving, which was quickly served.
Isabella held the beer in one hand and the skewers in the other, relishing the flavors. He looked at her with a gentle gaze, a somewhat helpless smile on his face.
“Isabella, you’re nothing like a proper lady.”
“Humph, like you’ve met many proper ladies. Those so-called proper ladies might seem elegant and graceful on the surface, but it’s all for show. If you make her act prim and proper all the time, she’ll be exhausted. Those women live in strict boundaries, putting in so much effort just to marry a wealthy and influential man. Living under constraints before marriage and then under the husband’s control afterward is really tiring. In fact, life’s about being free and happy. Take me, for example. I think lobsters are better than crayfish, and beer is better than red wine. If the person lying next to me isn’t my beloved, I wouldn’t be happy even in a palace.”
“Your beloved?” Andrew picked up a skewer of lamb from the plate, glancing at Isabella with a suggestive look.
She blushed slightly, shooting him a fierce glare.
“You’re not greedy,” he teased again with a smile.
Isabella quickly devoured most of the plate of skewers, burped contentedly, and while sipping her beer, replied, “No matter how much money, it’s just a number that can’t be spent.”
Hence, she never felt any remorse using Moonlit Art Inc.’s money for charity. Spending that money on those who needed it was more meaningful than squandering it away.
After hearing this, Andrew’s smile softened even more. Indeed, there were too few wise people in this world. Many lived a lifetime without as much insight as a girl in her twenties.
Just as Isabella finished her drink and was about to call the vendor for the bill, she suddenly saw a group of people coming from the adjacent street and felt a bit dizzy.
It was such an unfortunate coincidence; she had run into the men who had assaulted Olivia in the bar that day. The bald leader was the same person Isabella had doused with a drink.
The man was staring at her, obviously recognizing her, and was leading a group of around a dozen men across the road.
Isabella almost choked on her beer and pulled Andrew to leave.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, puzzled, as she tugged him forward. But before they could take a few steps, they were surrounded by the group of men.
The bald man looked at Isabella with a smirk, his tough-looking face becoming even more sinister. “It seems we’re fated to meet again here. I didn’t expect you to become a super star in the blink of an eye.”
After speaking, his eyes kept darting back and forth between Isabella and Andrew, finally resting on their tightly clasped hands.
Isabella’s delicate and fair hand was held in Andrew’s slender one, only revealing a few tender fingertips like flawless white jade, making the man salivate.
“Is this… your bodyguard? Or your lover? You seem full and ready to check into a room. I heard that female celebrities like you have immense sexual desires. He alone might not satisfy you. Do you want us brothers to lend a hand? We’ll make sure to serve you well,” the bald man said, wearing a lewd smirk.
“Mind your language,” Isabella’s face alternated between red and white with anger. She really wanted to slap him, but considering the number of people, she restrained herself.
Although Andrew had remained silent, his deep gaze had turned icy cold. These thugs didn’t recognize their foolishness. In the business world, everyone knew that Andrew seldom got angry easily. But once his eyes turned cold, it meant genuine irritation, and someone was destined to suffer.
The ruffians were still ignorant of their impending trouble and continued teasing Isabella with filthy language. “Why, am I being impolite? This is called being playful. Don’t you women like that? The badder a man is, the more women love him.”
For a moment, the place was filled with overlapping voices, becoming quite a ruckus. The bald man seemed to have had enough of their noise and raised his hand to silence them. Addressing Isabella, he said, “You, when you poured that drink on me last time, I needed several stitches in my head. How do you plan to settle this score?”