Chapter 8 Why He Didn't Have A Father

****** At noon, take a one-hour break. "Jessica, let's go to lunch!" "I'm not going, you guys go, I brought a packed lunch." Jessica raised the bento box in her hand, looking happy. Her son made this loving bento, which was even better than the food at a five-star hotel. "Oh, your boyfriend makes you a bento every day, you're too lucky, deliberately making us jealous." "Alright, I'm so hungry, let's eat!" "..." Jessica waved goodbye to them and then took out the bento that Henry made. "Your boyfriend made you a bento?" A cold voice appeared, causing Jessica's spine to chill, and her heart to skip a beat. Hey, Mr. Marcus, can you stop being so mysterious? The way you scare people is enough to give them a heart attack. Jessica forced a smile, "Mr. Marcus, this is my matter, no need to answer." Mr. Marcus crossed his arms, his deep gaze swept over her face and slowly shifted down to the bento. Today, Henry made chicken wings, which were beautifully arranged to form a heart shape. Paired with sautéed asparagus, the color was vibrant green with a sprinkle of chili, and in the middle of the heart-shaped chicken wings was a small red tomato as decoration. It was a true heart-shaped bento! Mr. Marcus smirked, his gaze mischievous and teasing as he looked at Jessica. Jessica followed his gaze, her face flushed, feeling as nervous as a deer caught in headlights. Ridiculous! The melodrama her son concocted, damn it, this man must have misunderstood! "The food at the company cafeteria isn't good?" "I'm used to eating what he makes." "Him?" Mr. Marcus furrowed his brow, his gaze inscrutable and slightly mocking, "A man?" Jessica coughed twice and nodded. Why doesn't this man go eat? She looked at the dishes, smelled the aroma of the food, and her mouth watered. You're not hungry, but I am! Mr. Marcus laughed even more coldly. Humph, Quincy cooked for this woman? What a miracle! Why flaunt the affection, afraid that people don't know how intimate you two are? "It looks very delicious," Mr. Marcus said lightly. Jessica's lip twitched fiercely. What did he mean? Jessica was still pondering why he said that. Mr. Marcus had already shown with his actions that he meant it, elegantly taking the bento box, the fork lightly picking up a chicken wing, and then into his mouth. The first bite tasted the asparagus, it was delicious, and this bento was of high quality. It may be home-cooked, but the taste was very delicious. Jessica was stunned, and she felt completely disoriented for a while. Damn it, he dared to steal my bento. "Mr. Marcus, what are you doing?" "Eating!" "That's my bento." Calm down, calm down, impulsiveness is the devil. "I'm hungry!" Really delicious! Quincy, you are talented. Damn it, even cooking, that man is so perfect, beware of lightning strikes. Henry, who was teaching at the elementary school, elegantly sneezed. As Mr. Marcus continued to eat, Jessica glared at him with her eyes burning, an expression as if she wanted to devour him. He paused, raised an eyebrow, then took another bite of the chicken wing. He got up elegantly, carried the bento, and walked into the CEO's office, leaving Jessica outside. Jessica, "???" With eyes fixed on the CEO's office, Jessica took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and felt her anger building. Damn it! Marcus, you despicable, heartless, beastly pervert! Do you think I'm just a decoration? Stealing her bento wasn't enough, and he also dared to lock her outside the door. Did he feel like he couldn't eat because she was glaring at him? She'd seen shameless people before, but never this shameless one. Don't be so despicable. Watch out for karma! She was about to storm in when Mr. Marcus floated out of the CEO's office with her bento and casually tossed her a red object. Instinctively, Jessica caught it. Instant noodles? Oh, no… Marcus, you're filthy rich, so why are you eating such a common brand of instant noodles? "Miss Jessica, eat your instant noodles!" Mr. Marcus said calmly, as if nothing had happened. To Jessica's ears, it was like nails on a chalkboard, and she had to restrain herself from attacking him. His expression seemed to say, "Enjoy your instant noodles!" "Mr. Marcus, you stole my bento." "As a qualified secretary, you have to consider your boss's stomach." Mr. Marcus confidently took a second chicken wing. Jessica was salivating with envy. "A normal boss wouldn't steal their subordinate's bento." Jessica smiled graciously, but internally, she wanted to knock him down and trample on him. Implicitly, "You're not normal, are you?" "You didn't know I'm not normal?" Mr. Marcus calmly retorted, raising an eyebrow and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "I have a history of mental illness. Do you want to see it and confirm?" Jessica choked on her breath after hearing this shameless lie. One day, I will crush you! In the face of the situation, Jessica had to lower her head and leave. Instant noodles were just that; she had eaten them before. "Miss Jessica, check the expiration date. It should still be good." Jessica's footsteps stumbled. Damn, this deceitful man must have done it on purpose, intentionally! If she ever ended up killing him accidentally, he probably deserved it, and the judge should not find her guilty. Jessica took hold of the instant noodles, her composure nowhere to be seen. Marcus felt no guilt as he enjoyed the bento, feeling satisfied and full. It had been so long since he had eaten such delicious home-cooked food. How long had it been? It had been so long that he couldn't even remember. Throughout the afternoon, Marcus was unpredictable. His handsome features were as icy as can be. If the usual Marcus was elegant and cold, today's Marcus was dark and chilling. For no reason at all, Jessica had been scolded by him several times, making the atmosphere in the secretary's office as chilly as midwinter, with everyone on edge. Anyone summoned by him would emerge after being reprimanded. Jessica could sense that Marcus was very agitated. As the end of the workday approached, Marcus asked Jessica to make him a cup of coffee. When she brought it in, Marcus stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his tall and imposing figure exuding an overwhelming pressure. With the setting sun casting its warm light, the entire office was filled with a comforting warmth. Gently placing the coffee on his desk, Jessica gave him a reminder. "Miss Jessica, rearrange my evening schedule," Mr. Marcus did not turn around, his voice slightly hoarse. In the president's office bathed in the twilight glow, his tone exuded a deep sense of melancholy. "Yes!" As she slowly exited the president's office and closed the door, Jessica couldn't help glancing back at him. This man possessed a powerful charisma that naturally drew people's gazes. He was elegant, cold, and ruthless... possessing all the qualifications of a ladies' man. In her eyes, Mr. Marcus was always formidable, to the point of seeming nearly invincible. But today, Mr. Marcus was filled with a sense of sadness, mixed with the sorrow of longing. It was as if he was reminiscing about someone. The warmth of the twilight, which seemed unrelated to him, unable to blend with his thoughts and sadness. Jessica felt a slight pain in her heart. The more powerful a person was, the more they concealed their own weaknesses. They couldn't cry, couldn't show weakness—yet they were often the most fragile and tender inside. Damn, under this specific light, with that specific person, and that specific silhouette, it felt like something straight out of a melodramatic soap opera with its tragic male lead. Mr. Marcus, are you going for the tragic route? That's just... too kitschy! ****** This area was a wealthy district, with fashionable villas in various styles such as American, British, and Gothic nestled on the mountainside. The scene was luxurious and spectacular. A silver Rolls-Royce stopped in front of an American-style villa, and Marcus opened the car door, gracefully walking into the villa. He seemed even more distant than usual. "Mr. Marcus, you're back. The master is waiting for you." The elderly butler respectfully ushered Marcus inside. The villa was decorated extravagantly, with the touch of a renowned designer, almost bordering on opulence. The glittering gold nearly dazzled Marcus's eyes. A hint of hidden mockery flashed through Marcus' eyes. The villa gave him the feeling of nothing but coldness, piercing to the bone. Alston Smith sat in a dignified manner at the head of the table, with white temples and a cane. This man, who had once dominated the business world, exuded an air of dignity. Although his eyes were cloudy, they still had a sharpness to them. His third wife, Monica Collins, who was not yet thirty, sat on the side with a cold smile. Her seven-year-old son, Leonard Smith, sat quietly, with a timid expression that was quite endearing. His second brother, Dennis Smith, was also present, and his upright face could not conceal the greed in his eyes. "Dad, I'm back!" Marcus called out in a flat tone. It was the Old Mr. Alston's rule to come back for a meal once a week. "Our busy man has finally returned, with such a grandiose manner that keeps us all waiting," Monica said coldly. "He's the president of Noblefull Group, of course, he's grand. Hmph!" Dennis said snidely. Marcus remained expressionless, "Dad, the company has been busy lately. I apologize." Although he said that, there was no hint of apology in his tone, and his expression remained indifferent. "Dinner is served!" Old Mr. Alston's sharp gaze swept across everyone, and he uttered these words, silencing everyone. Marcus sneered inwardly. Leonard timidly called him "Brother Marcus", and Marcus glanced at him and nodded. Leonard then smiled, but Monica pulled her son's clothes, making him lower his head timidly. "Marcus, Dennis is going to open a jewelry store. Allocate some funds to him and help him network," Old Mr. Alston commanded sternly. "Yes, Dad." Every time he stepped in here, it felt like stepping into an ice cellar, suffocatingly cold. In the eyes of Old Mr. Alston, he was nothing but a tool. This old man who once dominated the world was accustomed to controlling everything. The true master of the Smith family was Old Mr. Alston, and the true heir was Dennis Smith. Old Mr. Alston's most beloved son was Leonard. As for him... He was nothing more than the illegitimate offspring produced in a moment of passion. A clandestine son. The inadvertent murderer of Old Mr. Alston's most beloved son. Marcus sneered inwardly, knowing that one day, he would make Old Mr. Alston see how a man could fight back against emotional abuse! ****** In an apartment, Jessica collapsed on the sofa as soon as she got home. Her little son had not returned today, and she furrowed her brows. Hmm, at this time, should Henry be cooking? She had already become accustomed to the smell of food upon returning home. Worry was just a passing thought. Jessica sprawled out on the sofa, feigning death. Her son was a pure genius, absolutely incapable of such a ridiculous farce. She lay there, feeling at ease, waiting for her son to come back and cook for her. Not having eaten Henry's cooking for a day made her feel unwell. In the afternoon, being scolded harshly by Mr. Marcus and then suddenly having to rearrange his schedule, she was too tired to even move a finger. Unconsciously, she thought of Mr. Marcus standing in front of the window, impeccably dressed, full of loneliness as if the whole world had abandoned him. The Mr. Marcus she knew was cold, elegant, cunning, and psychologically dark... but could that person have anything to do with sorrow? What happened to him? "Oh, snap out of it," Jessica thought, shaking herself, "Jessica, have you been abused by him and developed a masochistic tendency?" Maybe it's better to think about the face of her precious son than Mr. Marcus's? Turning her thoughts about the two faces of Henry and Mr. Marcus, which were the same except for their sizes, Jessica calmed down. "Mommy, it's not you who has a masochistic tendency, it's your son who does." A child's tender voice floated in. Henry closed the door and came in with two bags of vegetables and meat, giving her a disdainful look. "Henry, you're finally back, mommy's starving to death!" Jessica shamelessly complained to her son that he hadn't fed her in time. Henry took off his backpack, threw it at her, and smiled, "Mommy, you should eat something to fill your stomach first, I'll cook right away." Henry was a genius, hardly paying attention in class. His schoolbag was always lightweight, but today it was unexpectedly heavy. Curiously, Jessica pulled it open, and there was a pile of snacks pouring out. Chocolate, cream puffs, candy... apples, bananas... and bread? So many things filled a large backpack. Jessica's immediate reaction was, "Henry, when you find money, you should use it to honor mommy. Buying things haphazardly is wasteful." Henry arranged the vegetables and meat, then washed the pot and turned on the rice cooker before coming out. He had an extremely elegant smile on his face as he blinked and said solemnly, "Who said I found money? These are gifts from the girls at our school." "What did you do to receive so many gifts from them?" What's wrong with my son? Why does he inherit this playboy personality from his father? Is it possible that being a playboy is also hereditary? "I'm also puzzled!" Henry said innocently. "They all say that I have a charming smile, and they give gifts to express their interest in me." These kids nowadays, falling in love at such a young age? "Didn't I tell you not to smile for no reason? I will make you go out and sell your smile when we can't survive one day." Henry, "…" "Moreover, is your smile only worth this much? It's too cheap," Jessica tilted her head and thought about it. "Let's make a blank check one day, then it will be worth it. Understand?" "What if the check bounces?" "Don't you investigate the details first? Henry nodded seriously after thinking for a moment, "Makes sense. I'll try it next time." "You're such a good boy!" Jessica calmly patted his head, not feeling like she was destroying a little boy's future. "Henry, mommy has a question for you, um…" Jessica's face turned a little red, she approached her son, hugged his little body, and asked, "Aren't you curious about your father at all?"