"Useless effort, no need to bother," Desmond Fairchild calmly sat in the boss’s chair, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
The boss was so composed; naturally, as a worker, he had nothing to say.
At five in the afternoon, Desmond Fairchild stood up on time, looking like he was about to leave work promptly.
Quentin Jennings was always curious, and seeing him leaving work consistently on time recently, his curiosity only grew: "Boss, why are you leaving work so early every day lately? That’s not like you."
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"Having dinner with my son," Desmond Fairchild replied as if it was the most natural thing, even though his face showed no expression, the pride in his words was unmistakable.
"Is it to have dinner with your son or your wife?" Quentin Jennings couldn’t help teasing him, "I bet you’re afraid your wife is anxiously waiting at home, right?"
"Is the work too easy lately? Need a vacation to Continent W?" As he spoke, Desmond Fairchild’s dark eyes suddenly turned somber, the chill radiating from him made others shy away.
Quentin Jennings felt the intense hostility, wishing he could slap himself twice, he grinned awkwardly: "I’m busy, very busy. You hurry and leave; I still have to work overtime."
Lately, the boss’s temper has softened quite a bit; he almost forgot Desmond Fairchild’s previous bad temper.
He swallowed hard, quickly sent off the big boss.
Since moving into Azure Cloud Shores, Desmond Fairchild dismissed the driver and has been driving around in a beat-up Mercedes himself.
Today, the nanny Sue called in sick; Desmond Fairchild personally went to the kindergarten to pick Jude Sinclair up from school.
This was a rare moment for the father and son to be alone together.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Jude Sinclair kept a small, tense face, not saying a word.
Desmond Fairchild’s expression was identical to his, only colder.
If these two weren’t different sizes, they would look identical from inside out, in both temperament and appearance.
"What’s wrong?" Seeing Jude Sinclair seemed unhappy, Desmond Fairchild asked.
Jude Sinclair rubbed his temples, looking troubled: "The girls at kindergarten keep pestering me, even the teacher does, treating me like I’m not coordinated at all. The singing, dancing, and drawing they teach are way too easy. I’m worried if I stay any longer, I’ll become introverted."
Desmond Fairchild glanced deeply at Jude Sinclair. He knew Jude had a high IQ, but at home, he was just a little kid sticking to his mom. He hadn’t expected him to be this perceptive.
Desmond Fairchild’s lips curled a bit, but of course, his son couldn’t be ordinary. Thinking of this, Desmond Fairchild felt a bit proud, turned the wheel half-circle, and headed back: "In that case, I’ll transfer you to another school, but what they teach at the new school—you have to keep it a secret from your mom."
"Secret? Didn’t mom already enroll me in the best kindergarten in North City?" Jude Sinclair raised his brows, thoughtfully staring at Desmond Fairchild.
Desmond Fairchild smiled but focused on driving and didn’t say another word.
Jude Sinclair understood his implication, didn’t speak further, but after a while, couldn’t contain himself: "Dad, will you always be my dad?"
"What else?" Desmond Fairchild was slightly surprised that Jude Sinclair asked this question.
Jude Sinclair nodded and began: "Since I was born, it’s been just mom with me. Since I can remember, mom wakes up from nightmares every night and holds me tightly. I can sense her despair and unease. She has deep scars on her back and has suffered much taking care of me alone..."
Desmond Fairchild pulled the car over, stopped, and waited for Jude Sinclair to continue.