The interior fell into silence, and the entire Harris family villa was enveloped in quietness.
In contrast, the Turner family estate still shone brightly, bustling with activity.
It wasn’t until nightfall that Andrew showed up, naturally becoming the center of attention.
As he moved through, people eager to curry favor with him almost formed a line. He courteously dealt with them, maintaining a slight distance from everyone.
Andrew, being of the younger generation, arrived late for the elder’s celebration, and naturally had to make amends first with Mrs. Hannah.
“Sorry, I’m late. Let me self-punish with a drink.” Andrew reached out, and his assistant promptly handed him a glass. He downed the drink, a rare display of humility, appearing very respectful and humble.
Mrs. Hannah raised her eyelids. Despite any discontent she might have, she wouldn’t confront the current head of the Turner family in public.
“That’s enough, I know you’re busy with work, burning the candle at both ends every day. Though young, take care of your health.” Mrs. Hannah said with a smile.
Portraying a scene of motherly affection and filial piety in front of everyone.
A faint smile lingered on Andrew’s lips as he remained nonchalant. Apparently, he was long used to such scenes. Anyone from the Turner family could act well. Mrs. Hannah wasn’t his biological mother; his mother was his father’s second wife who passed away a long time ago. Still, in front of outsiders, they maintained a mother-son relationship.
“Alright, stop lingering around me. Go help your older brother and sister-in-law entertain the guests. Your face isn’t the most important in this household yet.” Mrs. Hannah, wearing a face of kindness, waved him away.
Andrew echoed her words but was certain he wouldn’t go near Thomas and his wife.
With Andrew around, stealing the limelight, Thomas might not handle it well. If something were to happen, it would be his fault.
Exhausted from dealing with those people, after leaving Mrs. Hannah’s room, he didn’t return to the bustling hall. Instead, he went upstairs along the stairs to the rooftop balcony at the end of the third floor.
The weather at the end of the sky wasn’t bad; the pitch-black night sky held a full moon, the stars shining dimly.
Andrew’s tall and lean figure leaned against the railing, giving him a profound and somber appearance. The cool moonlight cast a long shadow behind him, pervading a faint sense of loneliness.
Out of habit, his left hand in his pocket, he took out a cigarette case and a lighter. The blue flame flickered in front of him as smoke slowly diffused from his fingertips.
Quietly, he smoked, quietly, he felt the wind. The night wind swept through the garden’s trees, causing the dense leaves to rustle.
Faint footsteps echoed from behind.
Andrew lazily raised his gaze to see Layla walking towards him in slippers.
She was wearing only a long red robe, her brown wavy hair casually draped. Squinting her beautiful eyes, she resembled a lazy cat.
Layla was almost fifty, but she maintained herself incredibly well, leaving almost no traces of time on her face. She looked no more than thirty, tall and slender.
There was a striking resemblance between Layla’s appearance and Andrew’s. Anyone looking at them would think they were a striking brother and sister pair.
Approaching Andrew, she naturally took a cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit two with her fingers. Taking a deep puff, perhaps too forcefully, she coughed.
“Don’t force it if you can’t handle it,” Andrew looked at her with slightly furrowed brows.
Ignoring him, Layla leaned against the railing, leisurely smoking without choking again.
“Coming back so late?” Layla’s slightly husky voice mixed with smoke.
“Yeah,” he replied calmly.
Layla curved her lips slightly, a tinge of coolness in her smile. ‘Even on Mother’s birthday, you dare to come back so late. Seems like you’re increasingly neglecting the family.’
“Busy,” his long fingers sighed lightly, flicking off the ash from his fingertip, lazily responding with a single word.
“‘Busy is always the excuse for you men,” Layla remarked.
“Do you think I’m not busy?” He looked at her, his blue eyes somewhat daunting.
Layla coughed lightly, then extinguished the cigarette with her fingertips. “Then stop being busy. After all, you don’t seem genuinely interested in the family fortune.”
“‘Don’t you want it?” he said with a smirk.
Layla subconsciously frowned, then a self-deprecating smile appeared on her lips. “Yes. When you were younger, I was afraid you’d be left alone, so I wanted to bring back the best of everything for you. Now that you’ve grown up, I suddenly realize you might not need these things. You could conquer the world with what you possess. Making you fight for me has distorted priorities.”
After hearing this, Andrew smiled faintly. His smile was charming, yet there was no warmth in it. “You’re saying this too late. The arrow has been shot, and there’s no turning back.”
Layla’s eyes dimmed slightly. After a brief silence, she sighed lightly. “Do as you wish, as long as you’re happy.”
Andrew leisurely exhaled smoke, remaining silent.
“The night breeze was chilly. Layla adjusted her robe casually, adopting a relaxed posture before asking, “You haven’t been in touch with Zoe lately?”
“You’ve been meddling too much lately.” Andrew’s brow furrowed, his voice sounding colder than the night.
“Now you find me nagging too?” Layla smiled wryly, seeming somewhat helpless. “When will you make people worry less? I also don’t want to meddle. Almost thirty, yet there isn’t a soul around you who genuinely cares.”
“Having a wife means caring?” Andrew’s tone carried a touch of sarcasm. “Jacob has wife and daughter, yet he still messes around outside. Stella is caring, but Thomas still keeps a mistress outside…”
“Shut your mouth,” Layla glared at him. “You’re getting more and more disrespectful. You’re casually addressing Father by name, but at least he was the former Alpha of our Shadow Clan.”