Chapter 17 The Three Children Unite
The following day at the Clubhouse, Nora pushed the private room's door open to find someone already there.
Mick, his hair slicked back and dressed in a polo shirt, sat on the couch waiting for her.
"Mr. Mick, my apologies for being late."
Nora greeted Mick with a detached tone.
Choosing the meeting spot was Mick's prerogative.
She had deliberately turned up ten minutes late.
"Miss Smith, right? Please, come in."
Mick, catching Nora's beautiful face, brightened up and rose to greet her.
Her lips pressed into a slight pout, she swiftly moved to sit on the couch.
Mick was left with his hand outstretched, but he smiled, sat next to her, and started to brew some tea.
"Miss Smith, you look stunning. Here, have some tea to soothe your throat."
"Thank you."
Nora politely expressed her gratitude, all the while scrutinizing Mick.
"Mr. Mick, I've come to learn what exactly happened back then. Could you tell me about it?"
"Talk about what?"
"About how we met," said Nora.
Mick replied with a loaded tone, "Oh, you mean how we ended up in bed together, right?"
Nora had to mentally roll her eyes at his sleaziness.
Sipping her tea after taking it from the cup, she concealed her disdain.
"That year, I had too much to drink at a dinner. One of the Smith family's bodyguards told me that to ensure smooth business dealings between our families, they had arranged a little... entertainment for me. Then I was led to a room."
Mick began his story at a leisurely pace.
Nora gripped her teacup tightly, "Do you remember which room it was?"
"Of course, Room 8808 – the deluxe suite."
Mick couldn't help but gaze admiringly at Nora's beautiful face, his look one of desire.
"Did you get a good look at my face?" Nora asked.
Leaning in close, Mick reached out to touch her.
"I was too drunk; couldn't see clearly. Just remember, you tasted divine."
With a swift move, Nora's hand rose.
The teapot on the table was knocked over, smashing onto the man's hand.
Hot water splashed everywhere.
Mick yelped, jumping to his feet in a hurry.
"Sorry, so sorry, Mr. Mick, it wasn't on purpose, I just meant to pour you some more tea."
Nora dabbed at the spill with a napkin, her face full of apologies.
Seeing her earnest expression, Mick replied.
"I'm fine; thankfully it's not too hot."
Nora sneered internally, though her face betrayed nothing.
"Mr. Mick, do you remember what I was wearing that night?" she asked again.
Mick was getting impatient.
"Miss Smith, that was four years ago. How could I remember such details?"
Nora pressed on, "Try to remember, was I wearing a bright red wedding dress?"
"Right, right, that's it."
Mick nodded dismissively.
As he admired Nora's lovely features, he smiled and said, "Miss Smith, since we've shared a night together, and you suddenly come to see me, are you missing the joy I brought you back then? How about..."
"Mr. Mick, I bore you three children," Nora cut him off sharply.
A look of disbelief flashed across Mick's face.
"You had three kids?"
"Yes, and they're about to start preschool."
Nora held Mick's gaze firmly.
He was taken aback for a moment, his eyes darting around before reaching for her hand.
"No problem at all! But Nora, we've been apart for so long, shouldn't we rekindle our connection first?"
Brushing his hand aside, Nora stood up abruptly.
"Mick, you're not the biological father of my children!"
She had felt something was off from the very beginning.
Not to mention that the club Mick chose was too out of the way.
But his answers didn't match up.
She wasn't wearing a wedding dress that day but an ordinary cocktail dress.
If he could remember sleeping with her, how could he forget the dress she wore?
A wedding dress is not an easily overlooked garment; how could he miss that?
And his surprised reaction when she mentioned the children – it all pointed to one thing.
He was not the man from all those years ago.
"Why am I not, Nora? It was me you slept with, after all."
Mick chuckled and reached out to embrace Nora.
Nora dodged his grasp and demanded, "Did the Smiths send you?"
Mick grabbed hold of Nora, "Come on, Nora, cut the chitchat. Just take care of me and I promise you'll be living the high life."
As he said this, he pushed Nora onto the couch, leaning in to kiss her.
"Get off me!"
Nora's heart skipped a beat as she fought to avoid his loathsome lips.
Her eyes caught sight of an ashtray on the coffee table; she grabbed it and hurled it straight at the man.
Mick howled in pain.
Nora shoved him with force, her chest heaving rapidly.
Mick touched his forehead and found his hand smeared with blood.
His eyes widened, rolled back, and he collapsed to the floor, passing out.
Is he dead?
No way!
She didn't hit him that hard, did she?
Shock painted Nora's face as she crouched down to check his breathing.
He was breathing; he had just fainted.
At that moment, a waiter pushed through the door and upon seeing a man laying on the ground covered in blood, screamed at the top of his lungs, "Murder!"
In a suburban villa.
"Mr. Thomas, the boys are picking on me again!"
Samantha pouted and rushed to the first floor, visibly upset.
Aaron, sitting in his wheelchair, was distracting himself with a medical book Nora had left him.
He looked up at Samantha's complaint.
Samantha's face was humorously adorned with several drawn turtles.
Aaron set aside the book, trying to suppress a chuckle.
"How did they pick on you?"
"We were playing the 24-Point Game, and the loser had to draw turtles on their face. They always calculate faster than me. It's not fair!"
Samantha leaned against Aaron, her lips protruding in a pout.
"Do you want your man to even the score for you?"
Aaron had nothing else to do and decided to join in on the kids' game.
"Yes, yes, please! Man, I'll go call the boys down!"
Thrilled, Samantha bounced off to fetch her brothers, Alex and Billy.
Soon, the brothers arrived.
"Mr. Thomas, are you sure you want to play with us? The loser has to draw a turtle on their face," Billy teased, holding a deck of cards with a smug expression.
"We forgot to tell you, we have an IQ of 180," Alex boasted in his childish tone, almost sure of Aaron's defeat.
"Let's honor the bet," Aaron confidently retorted.
Those kids had spunk, but his intellect wasn't to be underestimated—he was rocking a solid 200 IQ!
Aaron cracked a smile as he rolled over in his wheelchair to the table.
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