His Wife Calls The Shots
Chapter 1699: Adjusting the Plan

Chapter 1699: Chapter 1699: Adjusting the Plan

Chapter 1699

Raine Nolan lowered her head in apology, "I’m sorry, Chief, I know I was wrong. I just felt it would be a shame if the plan couldn’t be carried out."

She stole a glance at Valleys and saw him rolling a pair of beads in the palm of his hand. Such behavior often indicated that he was deep in thought.

Meanwhile, her mind was preoccupied with Joy Taylor’s whereabouts.

Now that Chloe Collins and the others were eagerly looking for Joy Taylor, she wanted to give them a "surprise", turning their joy into profound grief!

The thought alone was satisfying.

"Have everyone come in, I need to re-deploy the plan."

Raine Nolan was delighted, "I’ll call them right away."

She turned and quickly walked out.

There was a premonition in her heart that this plan adjustment would definitely be related to Joy Taylor, and soon, she would learn of Joy Taylor’s location!

Valleys considered himself a king and had assigned various positions to his subordinates, a total of ten confidants.

They all lived here, waiting for Valleys’ orders.

In no time at all, everyone had gathered.

Raine Nolan stood guard outside the door, unable to enter.

She pressed her ear against the door and could only make out some fragmented speech—it was Valleys talking, apparently about accomplishing all their tasks in one go.

If they didn’t succeed, they would be prepared to sacrifice everything.

Even as she attempted to keep listening, she couldn’t hear clearly anymore; the door was too well insulated.

Two hours later, the meeting dispersed.

Raine Nolan could see them emerge, each with a confident and relaxed expression on their faces.

Peering inside, she spotted many lines drawn on the whiteboard, with big crosses on both the Fosters and the Whites.

In addition, they had circled the Southwest Military District with a red pen, marking it as a key point.

——

Feng Mansion.

Chloe Collins was reviewing messages relayed back by robots from Orlando, one of which showed that Milton White had regained consciousness.

Seeing this, she felt a little reassured.

Everything that could have been done had been done; now, it was up to fate.

She returned to the main building’s front hall, sitting together with everyone, waiting for Alexander Foster and the others to come back.

They had been spending the nights outside for the past two days and, supposedly, were returning today.

It was nearly noon, and Evelyn Thompson and others had already prepared a whole table of delicious dishes, only waiting for the men to return.

Influenced by Evelyn Thompson, Cherry Foster and Sophia Ford had also volunteered to help in the kitchen, personally cooking a few dishes.

Such a scene would have been unimaginable before.

The Master felt greatly comforted upon seeing this harmonious sight, and he naturally turned his gaze to Chloe Collins again.

At that moment, most were busy in the kitchen, leaving only him, Chloe Collins, and two great-grandchildren there.

Chloe Collins was feeding grapes to Edgar Foster’s daughter.

Both children were very fond of her, especially when they saw her bulging belly, which made them even more curious, pestering her with a slew of questions as they lay by her side.

Seeing this, he slowly shifted towards the couch.

He casually pulled Edgar Foster’s son to him, naturally saying, "Sister, don’t lean on your little aunt like this, she will get tired."

The three-year-old toddler promptly straightened up upon hearing this, "Great-grandfather, eat."

She grabbed the grape Chloe Collins had been about to eat and handed it to the Master.

The Master nodded, accepting it, and fed it to his great-grandson, his expression slightly awkward and his gaze drifting towards Chloe Collins.

He noticed she was still quietly peeling grapes, showing no interest in engaging him in conversation.

With a light cough, he simply said, "The family is so united now, thanks to you; you’ve been a great help."

Chloe Collins looked up, "Are you talking to me?"

The Master’s face turned red, a redness of awkwardness.

——

(Good night.)

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