Sweet Wife So Charming: CEO: Hold Back Your Heart-Chapter 444: Intimacy

This string of events, Moira Young didn’t even get a chance to speak.

Frustrated, she threw a big pillow towards the door: "Ouch, I overexerted myself, feeling dizzy now."

With that, she collapsed onto the bed, whining softly.

Julian Sinclair, that big jerk.

In the following days, Julian Sinclair didn’t mention Aiden Webb at all in front of Moira Young, nor did he bring up that incident. Moira Young seemed to have forgotten, and her mood improved a lot.

The two of them were awkward and tangled; let’s not talk about that for now.

At The Winslow Residence, Mrs. Winslow decided to take action.

This time, she didn’t ask Aiden Webb. Instead, she directly investigated Moira Young last night and was now sitting on the sofa, reading a book while waiting.

"Madam, someone has delivered an envelope."

Mrs. Winslow raised her hand to take it, dismissed the maid, and tore open the envelope to look inside.

Her elegant eyebrows gradually furrowed, anger rising, and with a "slam," the envelope was slapped onto the floor, scattering photos everywhere.

Looking around, it was all photos of Moira Young, previously fabricated and taken at misleading angles by others.

However, Mrs. Winslow couldn’t understand them.

The person who gathered this information perhaps had some unknown intention, as all these photos depicted fraudulent events.

"This Moira Young, Zachary, oh Zachary, you’re really confused, how can you associate with a woman like this!"

Mrs. Winslow was full of irritation, striding towards the small living room. She must intervene in this matter!

Outside the window, a gust of wind blew, picking up the scattered photos, and a childhood photo slipped silently under the sofa.

On set, during a break, Aiden Webb sat alone quietly, and his assistant approached with a phone: "Mr. Webb, a call."

Aiden Webb opened his eyes, took the phone: "Hello."

"Zachary, look at the trouble you’ve caused."

"Mom." Aiden Webb sat up straight, stood up, and walked aside.

"You still have the nerve to call me mom. I warned you, but you didn’t listen. Without investigating properly, you recklessly acknowledged a sister. Do you know that you were deceived by that Moira Young?"

Mrs. Winslow’s words drilled straight into Aiden Webb’s ears, making his temples throb. Rubbing his forehead, Aiden Webb said, "Mom, Moira wouldn’t lie to me."

"How do you know she wouldn’t deceive you? You trust her so much. You claim to be clever, but I think you’re just a fool."

"Mom." Aiden Webb sounded a bit helpless, not understanding why his mother was so fixated on this. He felt stuffy, recalling how Moira left in a huff yesterday. "I trust that, besides you and dad, she’s the person I believe in most."

These words choked Mrs. Winslow, making her head spin. In her heart, she wondered: What kind of spell did Moira Young cast on her son?

When there was no response from the other end, Aiden Webb grew concerned and called out to Mrs. Winslow several times. After a pause, he finally heard Mrs. Winslow’s exasperated voice: "In any case, this woman should not think about entering our family."

Aiden Webb’s eyes dimmed slightly, and he let out a bitter smile. We’re the ones who want her, but she’s not willing.

"Mom, when the time comes, you’ll understand. Moira and I are just siblings. Don’t overthink it, and please don’t disturb her."

Mrs. Winslow curled her lips: "When the time comes, what time? Anyway, I don’t care, this woman is definitely out of the question." She hung up the phone, unwilling to hear Aiden’s further arguments.

"Humph, if you don’t want me to go, I insist on going. I must see what kind of person this Moira Young is. Some say she’s great; some don’t. It’s really annoying. No matter what, she cannot be my son’s woman, let alone the Winslow family’s daughter-in-law."

Aiden Webb looked at the darkened phone screen, furrowed his brow, and was about to call back when he heard the call for the scene to begin in the distance. Sighing, he could only hope his mother wouldn’t have the time for this.

The man’s departing figure appeared somewhat lonely and sullen as the distant lights shone down on him.

In fact, he was somewhat grateful that he unintentionally blurted out without planning to tell his parents so soon.

After all, Moira Young needed some time too. Hopefully, everything would be fine. Once she accepted this matter, it might be easier to inform his parents.

Moira Young caused a fuss with Julian Sinclair at home for half a day, only to be subdued directly in the end. They both intentionally avoided the topic of "identity." In reality, Julian Sinclair was accommodating Moira Young, only planning to discuss it when she was ready; if she wasn’t, he’d never force her.

As for the Winslow family, whether she returned or not didn’t matter. As long as he was there, he would give her a complete home.

"It’s all your fault, I caught a cold." Moira Young slapped Julian Sinclair’s chest in annoyance, about to say more, before suddenly realizing her nose was running, panicking and yelling, "Ah, Uncle, tissue!"

Julian Sinclair handed her a tissue, covering her nose and wiping it: "Little snot monster." Moira Young shot him a glare.

"If you weren’t messing around, would I have caught a cold?" Moira Young’s muffled voice came from beneath the tissue.

Yesterday morning, she woke up refreshed, only for a man who was trying to please her to directly pull her back into bed for an indescribable session, after which they spent the whole day at home resting in the name of recuperation.

The man thought about it, chuckled, and earnestly admitted his mistake: "Yes, you were so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself." Bringing a blush to the woman’s face.

"You, you, you... You’re so annoying." She tossed the tissue into the trash, rolling into the sheets and teasingly scolding.

Julian Sinclair didn’t give her a chance to sulk, pulling her up again: "Alright, come on, it’s time for school."

At his words, Moira Young sat up abruptly and shouted: "Oh no, I’m going to be late, ah, my nose!"

Suddenly, the interior became chaotic like a battlefield. The winter sunshine was warmed by the early spring breeze, and golden light streamed through the glass windows, illuminating the smile on the man’s lips.

The car slowly stopped at the school entrance.

"If anything comes up, call me right away." Julian Sinclair held her hand, reminding her.

Moira Young, wearing a mask, mumbled in response: "Got it. It’s not my first class, you really..." With that, she was about to get out, but the man didn’t let go of her hand.

Turning her head, her mouth, covered by a mask, pouted: "What do you want now?"

Due to her cold, the woman’s naturally sweet and soft voice sounded even more adorably tender.

Julian Sinclair’s eyes were full of laughter as he earnestly pointed to his own forehead.

Moira Young hesitated, unable to break free from his grip, glanced at the driver behind the partition, and sneakily planted a kiss.

"Alright, alright, satisfied now?" After the kiss, she tried to escape, but he pulled her back.

Julian Sinclair tugged down the edge of her mask and gently pecked her soft, pink lips: "That’s enough. Off you go."

Covering her mouth, she quickly put her mask back on, opened the car door, and grumbled, "You’re an idiot, I have a cold, idiot." Without waiting for him to reach out, she slid out of the car and ran into the school.