His Wife Calls The Shots
Chapter 1339: New Wounds and Old Wounds_1

Chapter 1339: Chapter 1339: New Wounds and Old Wounds_1

Chapter 1339

The two little ones said, "Big sister... We didn’t do it on purpose..."

"Big brother, we did it on purpose," said the youngest with wide eyes.

"Shut up, idiot."

After a moment, Chloe Collins gave them their phone back, "Do as you please, continue to eat."

She didn’t tamper with the information on it at all, returning it as is to them.

The children thought for a moment and decided not to report it.

Before long, both of them had finished eating and scampered off cheerily.

Milton White asked, "To whom do these two children belong?"

"Next door."

"Naughtier than you," he said as he continued to cook.

Chloe was playing with a tomato in her hand, leaning against the wall, her mind wandering.

"Senior, I’ve told you about the Continent of Stortia, right?"

Although they hadn’t met for several days, she had already informed him about what had happened, including the events in the laboratory.

Milton White responded, "Is there something else you aren’t telling me?"

"No, I just wanted to know, how much do you know about the Alliance?"

Milton White responded calmly, "Well, not much. It’s an economic entity, that’s one way to understand it."

"Jerry River said that behind the Alliance, there’s actually the same force controlling the test subjects."

Milton White laughed, "Really?"

His expression seemed no different than usual.

Chloe Collins watched him for a moment, before diverting her gaze, "There’s no evidence yet."

Milton White calmly said, "I think you don’t need to worry about those things. Just wait for the antidote to be ready. These matters are too complicated and you’re not a savior. You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders. You might not find it tiring but seeing you like this, I do."

He laid out the dish he had cooked, a fragrant plate of Spicy Chicken.

An alluring sight, an appealing smell, and undoubtedly delectable.

He was not a cook, nor a culinary enthusiast; the dishes he knew how to prepare were simply to her taste. The reason he cooked was for her.

Chloe Collins took the dish, saying, "Don’t think of me as something admirable, I’m just curious and don’t plan on doing anything."

"Is that so? I don’t believe you," Milton White laughed and moved on to the next dish.

Chloe casually asked, "Senior, how come you suddenly started smoking?"

Milton White’s face abruptly changed. He stared at the food in the pan, not moving.

Chloe, noticing the smell of the food burning, went over and turned off the heat.

She looked at Milton, "Senior?"

Milton White seemed to regain some of his usual spark in his eyes, "Ah, no, just occasionally, that’s all."

"But I remember you always hated the smell of smoke."

"I was young back then, not much pressure. Now with so many things to handle, I smoke a bit when I’m stressed."

He gave her a reassuring smile, "Don’t worry, I will smoke less from now on."

He turned the stove back on and resumed cooking.

Chloe stared into his eyes, saying nothing more.

In her mind, she recalled what Albert Green had said last time, that the cigarette Milton smoked contained sedatives.

Her gaze inadvertently moved to his wrist.

Donned in long sleeves today, it covered his wrist perfectly.

However, since he was cooking, his sleeves were rolled up out of habit.

Clear red marks were visible on his wrist, not even remotely healed. It seemed like a new injury over an old one, very conspicuous.

Recalling Milton’s deliberate evasion, Chloe swallowed back the question that was on her lips.

Everyone has their secrets and the right to remain silent. She cannot force him.