The Bigshot Married Himself to the Heiress-Chapter 509 - 510: Complaining to Sixth Master

On the open-air balcony, Adrian Desmond was indeed making a phone call. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette held between his fingers, its tip flickering in the darkness.

Adrian rarely smoked—only when he was upset and annoyed did he resort to it.

Sienna Johnson walked over, snatched the cigarette from his hand, and placed it in her mouth, pretending to take a puff. He quickly grabbed it back.

"Pregnant women can’t smoke!"

"Pregnant women shouldn’t be exposed to secondhand smoke either!"

Adrian understood her unspoken message and put out the cigarette.

"Okay, I’ll discuss it when we are back in Abyanabad!" Adrian ended the call.

Adrian saw her exposed skin and frowned, removing his suit jacket and draping it over her.

"You’re not allowed to wear such revealing clothes in the future!"

"My dress is already very conservative. Look at the people in the banquet hall; if they’re not showing their chests, they’re displaying their backs..."

Adrian’s face darkened. "Can you be compared to them? You’re a married woman."

"I know." Sienna could tolerate Adrian’s possessiveness and even found it somewhat cute.

"You weren’t staying inside. Why did you come out?"

Sienna thought of Aiden Howard’s offense towards her just now. At first, she was furious and wanted to complain to Adrian, so he could teach Aiden a lesson.

After calming down, Sienna suppressed her anger. After all, Aiden hadn’t done anything to her; it was just verbal offense. She’d stay away from him in the future.

"I missed you."

"I’ve noticed that you’ve become quite clingy since you became pregnant."

"Clingy? You don’t like it?"

Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she leaned into his broad embrace. She had indeed become very clingy.

"I like it."

Seeing the woman nestled in his embrace, Adrian’s furrowed brows relaxed. He knew she didn’t actually enjoy attending these functions. "Why don’t we escape?" he suggested, also disliking such occasions.

"How could we? I was just talking with you for a bit. I need to go back and socialize soon. After the birthday banquet, there’s an auction to attend." Sienna sighed. "It’s tough being a strong woman..."

"Then don’t be one."

Sienna touched her belly and said, "I can only retire after your son grows up and can take over."

"How many more years will that be...?"

"It’ll be quick..." 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Year after year, time flowed by like sand slipping through one’s fingers; try as one might to hold on, it couldn’t be stopped. Fortunately, with a loved one by her side, the passage of time didn’t seem so terrifying.

...

In the banquet hall, Aaron Faber arrived late and immediately searched for Samara.

That time in the back garden when he had frightened her had made Samara very wary of him. Now, every time she saw him, she would avoid him, making it even more difficult for him to see her.

In the hall filled with fragrant dresses and elegant figures, his gaze swept over each person, searching for the one who made his heart race.

"Sir, would you join me for a drink?"

A woman made advances towards him, but Aaron apologized and continued to search through the crowd.

After circling nearly half the banquet hall, he finally spotted Samara in the Self-Service Dining Area.

She was dressed in a delicate, pale-pink outfit, eating cake with Curly, who was also dressed in a similar pale-pink. The two girls were feeding each other, making Aaron shake his head.

She’s already a fourteen-year-old girl, yet still so childlike, completely oblivious to matters of love.

He walked towards her. She was sitting there, swinging her legs, eating cake bite by bite, her face adorned with a brilliant smile—the smile of an innocent child.

"Is the cake good?" he asked, stopping in front of her and looking at the top of Samara’s head.

"Uncle Aaron," Curly called out sweetly.

Hearing Aaron Faber’s voice, Samara’s body tensed slightly. She kept her head down, not even glancing at him.

Aaron Faber couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

It had been a long time since he last saw her. He wondered if she had changed. Girls at this age developed quickly, changing almost day by day.

"Samara, what’s wrong? Why are you ignoring me?" Aaron Faber deliberately tried to engage her.

Samara kept her head lowered and whispered, "Uncle Aaron..."

Uncle? he thought. It had taken so much effort to get her to change how she addressed him, but now she was calling him Uncle again. This "Uncle" erased all his recent efforts; their relationship was back to square one. It seemed he had been too impulsive that night. He shouldn’t have been so rash and frightened her. But when he was with her, he really couldn’t control himself.

He sat down beside her. Samara grew even more nervous and edged closer to Curly, maintaining her distance from Aaron Faber. This small movement, naturally, did not escape his eyes.

"Samara, do you want to dance?" he asked.

"No, I don’t want to dance," she replied softly.

Aaron Faber coughed lightly to cover his embarrassment. "That night, I..."

Samara suddenly shot up from her seat. Without looking at him, she said, "Excuse me, I need to find my mom."

Aaron Faber watched her flee as if he were some sort of monster, and he couldn’t help but feel irritated.

What was he supposed to do now?

He looked down and saw Curly gazing at him curiously. He ran a hand through his hair and forced a smile. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Do you like my aunt?"

Realizing his secret was out, Aaron Faber was stunned. He hadn’t expected Curly to see through him! Did Samara know how he felt? Judging by Samara’s reaction just now, she probably understood his feelings. After all, she was a fourteen-year-old girl living in such an open-minded era; it was impossible for her to be completely clueless.

"Yes, I like her. And I like you too, Curly," Aaron Faber said ambiguously.

Curly continued to eat her cake, watching him without saying a word, which made Aaron Faber feel increasingly uncomfortable.

"Fine, I admit it. I like your aunt. But this is a secret, can you promise not to tell anyone?" Aaron Faber whispered.

Curly sized him up and then delivered a heart-wrenching blow, "But you’re so old. How can you like my aunt?"

"Isn’t your dad older than your mom?"

"..."

"Besides, an older husband is better. They’re mature, stable, and know how to be considerate, loving, and patient with a woman. Don’t you agree, Curly?"

Curly finished her cake, put the plate on the table, and made to leave.

Aaron Faber caught her arm and pulled her onto his lap.

He chuckled. In Curly’s eyes, his laugh was like that of a big bad wolf in sheep’s clothing.

"Uncle Aaron, what are you doing?"

"How about you tell me a bit about your aunt, okay?"

"..."

"For example, what has your aunt been up to lately? How’s she doing in school? Are any boys chasing her? Does your aunt like any boys?..."

Aaron Faber was trying to get information about Samara from Curly.

Curly looked at him with sympathy and said just one thing that shut him up completely, "My aunt doesn’t like men!"

Aaron Faber: ...