His Wife Calls The Shots
Chapter 1368: Thermal Pants_1

Chapter 1368: Chapter 1368: Thermal Pants_1

Chapter 1368

No one mentioned the Collinses, Rosalind Taylor, Tristan Collins, or the Carringtons.

However, on the third day after the incident, Chloe Collins saw news about the Collins and Carrington families on the news.

All related cooperation between them had been severed and the news was abuzz with speculation about the rift between the two families.

That same afternoon, Charles Carrington came looking for her at the school.

He was holding Sweet Glutinous Rice Cakes that he had just bought from Snack Street.

Chloe Collins glanced at him and asked, "What’s up?"

Charles Carrington seemed somewhat awkward: "Nothing really, I just brought you a treat, here, eat."

"Speak your mind."

"Eat a piece first."

Charles Carrington brought a piece of the cake to her lips, thinking to himself that it was easier to ask a favor of someone who had accepted a gift.

Chloe Collins slightly furrowed her eyebrows: "Could you please act normal?"

"What’s wrong with me?"

"You’re acting like a eunuch who can’t flatter properly."

Charles Carrington was speechless for a moment and finally blurted, "Here’s the deal, our father knows about this now, and he wants... to meet you."

Chloe Collins didn’t seem surprised at all; she appeared to have anticipated this.

She turned her bicycle in other direction and said indifferently, "I don’t plan to acknowledge him as my father, so there’s no need for us to meet."

Charles Carrington’s handsome face darkened slightly, he grabbed her handlebars and seriously said: "This issue can’t be avoided. You have the Carrington blood in you. They won’t sit idly by."

Chloe Collins gave a noncommittal smile, "I have my mother’s blood in me."

"Chloe Collins, hear me out first. Just meet once, he really wants to see you."

Chloe Collins remained detached. "For me, he’s just a sperm donor who has no connection to being a family member."

"What about me? Regardless, I’m your brother. We share the same father. My shoulders... they can be there for you to lean on." He raised his eyebrows, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Chloe Collins glanced at him and snorted, "To lean on?"

She shook her head and laughed lightly before pedaling away on her bicycle.

Charles Carrington groaned in frustration, "Hey, you don’t have to look down on me like that, do you?"

"This Sweet Glutinous Rice Cake is pretty tasty, aren’t you going to have any?"

Chloe Collins waved her hand dismissively as she pedaled further away.

Feeling helpless, Charles Carrington was about to catch up to her when he saw a girl standing not far from there.

Layla Lowell happened to be walking by, holding a few books.

She was just out of class.

At the moment their eyes met, Layla Lowell averted her gaze and began walking away.

Charles dashed over, put the Sweet Glutinous Rice Cake into her arms, and left.

Layla Lowell: "..."

-

Since Chloe Collins had refused the meeting, she noticed a black car always parked at the school gate, visible every time she walked out of school.

The car’s licence plate was always the same.

Inside the car were two people, a driver and another person seated in the back whose face wasn’t discernible.

They had never gotten out of the car during the instances where she came across them, they simply happened to be parked there whenever she passed by.

She saw through their intentions but didn’t speak of it.

Half a month later, that car no longer appeared.

In its place were several gifts that Charles Carrington would bring to her.

However, it was obvious that some items were not picked out by Charles Carrington, such as the thermal pants.

The quality was top-notch, but they were still thermal pants.

She wasn’t accustomed to wearing these and carelessly discarded them at the side after a glance.

Charles Carrington asked Alexander Foster to help hang them up in a prominent place.

On the day of her second drug test, she ran into Tristan Collins.

To be precise, Tristan Collins had come to see her.

Over half a month had passed, and Tristan seemed to have aged ten years. Silver streaks were starting to show at his temples.

Despite it all, his air of authority remained unchanged; he still carried himself with the same precision and formality.

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