Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 978: I Want Both You and Your Legs

"Walk slower, are you that excited to see me?" David Locke watched as Mary Scott hurried toward him, teasing her even as he reached out his long arms to pull her into an embrace before she even got close.

Mary found herself wrapped snugly in his coat, tilting her face upward. "What are you doing? Don’t want your legs anymore?"

"I want both you and my legs." David smirked, rubbing the top of her head with his chin.

"Greedy." Mary chuckled in response, pulling him toward the car.

Trailing behind and completely ignored, Alfred Scott muttered to himself, "... This is too much to handle today!"

Once inside the car, Mary glanced at the still-buzzing trending topics on her phone and turned to David to discuss. "I’d like to invite Mr. Foster and the others for a meal to thank them."

"Sure, you pick a time, and we’ll go together," David agreed. After all, without the help of the "Wilderness" program crew, Mary wouldn’t have been able to turn the tide at the last moment.

"Alright."

"Then let’s head home," David said before suddenly remembering the two others in the back seat.

Being targeted by such a commanding presence, Alfred Scott and Mia Anderson shrank back before sensibly speaking up in turn. "Director Locke, I stayed up late and woke up early. Now that things are settled, I need to catch up on sleep. Could you have the driver drop me off at the corner?"

She absolutely did not want to stick around and witness more PDA.

Alfred, meanwhile, touched the injury on his shoulder. "Sis, I checked out of the hospital against advice. To avoid complications later, you’d better have the driver drop me back at the hospital."

Hearing the two of them, Mary shot David a glare. "We should all head back together to Rose Valley. What’s the point of just the two of us having hot pot?"

David let out a low hum, neither agreeing nor opposing.

But the two in the back insisted—too much PDA could really be overwhelming!

Left with no choice, Mary relented, but instead of dropping Mia at the corner, she had her driven home. Mary and David stayed at the hospital to see Alfred back into his bed and even visited the adjacent patient room to check on the more seriously injured bodyguard.

Once everything was taken care of, the two finally got back in the car.

...

At the airport.

Edward Locke, bowing to the will of his wife, had quietly boarded a flight the previous night.

Upon landing in Swallow City, they stormed directly to their son’s residence.

Though the couple lived abroad for most of the year, they still remembered the password to David’s villa. Without hesitation, they let themselves in.

The housekeeper, who was in the kitchen preparing ingredients, rushed out upon hearing the commotion. "Mr. Locke, Lady Locke, you’re back! The ingredients are almost ready. Should I... should I prepare the meal now?"

Mid-sentence, the housekeeper realized the newcomers weren’t Director Locke and Mary Scott. She stammered, then asked nervously, "Who are you? Did you come to the wrong house?"

"No mistake. This is my son’s home," Mrs. Locke declared. Her gaze swept over the fresh ingredients on the table and the double-flavor hot pot in the center. Based on the housekeeper’s earlier comments, she guessed David and Mary would be back soon. Waving her hand, she added, "You may go. I’ll handle things here."

"But Mr. Locke asked me to prepare this for his wife..." the housekeeper hesitated.

"Your employer is my son. Don’t worry, he won’t blame you for this," Mrs. Locke said, her slightly plump figure exuding both kindness and authority. In her younger days, as a renowned screenwriter, she could command a room. Faced with her imposing aura, the housekeeper had no choice but to relinquish her apron. Just as she reached for her phone, she heard Mrs. Locke speak again. "Oh, by the way, my husband and I came back secretly to give them a surprise. Don’t tell them."

"This... Alright..." the housekeeper replied reluctantly. Under Mrs. Locke’s watchful eye, she unwillingly left.

Even as she walked to the gate, she couldn’t help but send David a message.

David and Mary had already arrived at the neighborhood. When his phone buzzed with the housekeeper’s message, David didn’t even check before telling Mary, "Starving, aren’t you? You should be able to eat as soon as we get home."

Mary had left early that morning, her mind preoccupied and skipping breakfast. Then Alfred’s injury happened, and amidst all the chaos, she had forgotten about lunch. The press conference left her so mentally drained she hadn’t even noticed her hunger until now, when she finally let her guard down. Her stomach grumbled loudly as soon as she got into the car.

The sounds of her growling stomach embarrassed her at first, but David’s comforting words only made her cheeks flush harder. Trying to defend herself, she muttered, "I’m not that hungry, just..."

Grumble, grumble!

Before she could even finish, her stomach protested again. Mortified, Mary covered her abdomen in frustration.

David, of course, wasn’t about to forgo the chance to tease her. "Just what?" he asked with a devilish grin.

"Just that my stomach has its own ideas. What else could it be?" Mary huffed, letting out a mock-angry snort, her girlish charm shining through.

Her retort had David laughing heartily. Ruffling her hair affectionately, he nodded in agreement. "Wife, you’re absolutely right. A stomach has its own thoughts. Next time, I won’t let it go hungry. Poor thing—it’s starving *and* getting blamed. Must be exhausting."

Mary: "..."

Seriously, this man was pure trouble!

The couple arrived at the villa in light spirits. As David got out, he had no intention of using his wheelchair. But Mary, still bitter about all his teasing in the car, insisted the driver bring it out and watched smugly as David sat down. Standing above him, she smirked triumphantly and suggested, "Let’s race to the door. The loser has to grant the winner one wish. Deal?"

David, recalling how Mary had used one of his promises to propose leaving him last time, grew visibly displeased. "No deal."

"Relax, I promised I’d never pull that kind of stunt on you again. I won’t make you do anything stupid this time, okay?" Mary reassured him, knowing her past actions had hurt him deeply. This challenge was her way of soothing old wounds.

David shot her a sharp look before finally giving in. "Fine, but I set the limits on the wish. Deal?"

Mary hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly. Without thinking, she replied, "Deal."

"Done," David said decisively, watching her fall right into his little trap.

Though a twinge of unease lingered in her heart, Mary felt confident she would win and get to set the conditions. She raised her hand high, calling out, "Ready? Set—"

"Go!"

Before she could finish her count, Mary had already taken off toward the villa, running ahead at full speed.

Behind her, David leisurely wheeled after her on his own.

Halfway to the door, Mary couldn’t resist turning back and taunting him. "Hurry up! You’re slower than a turtle! Want me to help you?"

David chuckled softly at her antics. "You little troublemaker."

"Don’t think I can’t hear you! You’re calling me names, aren’t you? Hmph!" Standing there with her hands on her hips, Mary looked every bit like a playful child, her joy unchecked.

David couldn’t stop laughing. "Mary, are you sure you’re not part dog?"

"No, you’re the one who’s a dog—dog of a man!" Mary retorted defiantly at the villa’s doorstep, not worried about eavesdroppers given its secluded location.

But just as her words landed, the front door was pulled open without warning behind her.

Mary froze, suddenly remembering the housekeeper might still be inside. She was about to turn around when she noticed David’s expression shift dramatically, his eyes fixed on something—or someone—behind her.

"What’s wrong?" Mary asked, growing anxious at his reaction.

David licked his dry winter lips and pointed behind her.

Mary turned around, only to hear a commanding female voice ask, "Who did you just call a dog of a man?"

As the question reached her ears, Mary’s eyes fell upon a slightly plump but dignified woman, whose initially kind appearance now looked anything but kind. Mary involuntarily swallowed hard. "I... You... Who are you?"

Before the woman could respond, Mary bolted back to David’s side. Gripping his wheelchair handles tightly, she declared with grave seriousness, "Husband, I think we’re at the wrong house. Let’s leave!"

She began pushing him away, but David caught her hand, calming her with a gentle pat. Then he looked up at the woman in the doorway and said, "Mom, you scared my wife."

Mrs. Locke: "..."

Mary, her jaw dropping slightly: "Mom?"

"Who are you calling Mom?!" Mrs. Locke shot back, clearly displeased.

Mary immediately wilted, stepping back to hide behind David’s wheelchair.

David chuckled lightly. "Don’t worry. Mrs. Twain just likes to act tough. She only sounds mean."

Mrs. Locke: "..." MD, she should’ve squashed him when he was little—now he’s all about his wife, no mom in sight!

Fuming, Mrs. Locke glared at Mary, who tried to soothe the awkward situation by gently patting her chest. "Oh, I see. I knew someone with such a kind face couldn’t really be mean. But, David, are you sure you’re not mistaken? Ma’am looks like she’s barely forty—how could she be your mom?"

Mary’s innocent and earnest tone, paired with her exaggeratedly serious expression, left David momentarily stunned. Then he caught the subtle softening in Mrs. Locke’s expression and couldn’t help but marvel at Mary’s quick thinking. Playing along, he replied, "Mrs. Twain is happily married, has talented children-in-law, and enjoys life daily. Of course, she looks young and beautiful. There’s no mistake."

"Wow, I’m so jealous," Mary sighed, her eyes shining like a child’s as she gazed at Mrs. Locke.

When Mrs. Locke first learned her son had married a scandal-ridden social climber, dragging him into countless disputes, she had mentally prepared herself to meet a manipulative, flashy woman. Never did she imagine Mary would be a girl-next-door type, fresh-faced and pure, with a voice as sweet as honey and eyes that sparkled like a doe’s. Even Mrs. Locke found herself softening slightly.

But quickly regaining her composure, Mrs. Locke let out a cold snort. "All of you are useless at everything except flattery!"

Mary awkwardly laughed, giving David’s hand a pleading squeeze.

Taking her hint, David clasped her hand and stood, guiding her toward his mother. "Mom, it’s cold outside. Let’s go in. Mary hasn’t eaten all morning. We can talk while we eat."

His calm and natural demeanor defused Mrs. Locke’s stern front, making her authority appear unreasonable. It was like he was deftly disarming her.

Though Mrs. Locke had more to say, her son easily sidestepped her and led Mary inside, leaving her standing alone in the cold wind. For a moment, Mrs. Locke felt a pang of regret—for not squashing her son like a bug years ago.

But what really irked her was yet to come.

Inside, she found her husband, who had promised to stand united with her, now wearing an apron and warmly asking Mary if she could handle spicy food. Before Mary could answer, her son chimed in, "Just a little spice. She didn’t eat much this morning, so nothing too heavy."

BAM!

In that harmonious scene, Mrs. Locke slammed the door shut with a kick.

Startled, Edward Locke straightened up, his face dropping into a pout as he snapped, "Dobbin, how could you keep something as big as your marriage from us? Do you think that’s appropriate?"

David didn’t even bother lifting his gaze, long accustomed to his parents’ dynamics. But Mary, unfamiliar with their ways, was utterly shocked. Her jaw dropped as she stared at Mr. Locke, whose mood shifted faster than an actor on stage—only this performance brought more fear than delight. fгeewebnovёl.com

Noticing her distress, Edward quietly leaned over and apologized, "Did I scare you, kiddo? Don’t worry, I was just putting on a show for your mother. I’m not really angry!"

Mary, initially dazed, suddenly heard him address himself as "Dad" so tenderly. Her eyes welled with tears she had held back since the press conference, overwhelmed by the warmth of being called "kiddo" and "daughter" again. It unleashed the emotions she’d been bottling up—memories of her strained relationship with her own father—and she couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Both David and Edward panicked, the two men standing frozen as her tears flowed. David reached out to wipe them away, his chest tightened with anxiety. "Moll, stop crying!"

But the more he spoke, the harder her tears fell, streaming even through his fingers and leaving him utterly distraught. How could this woman not cry earlier through everything, only to break down now?

He turned a sharp glare toward his father, who could only stand awkwardly to the side, equally clueless. Edward cast an innocent look as if to say, "What did I do wrong?"

As for Mrs. Locke, she merely frowned. How could one person have so many tears?

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢