Chapter 23: Triplets’ Mighty Mom Chapter 23

Chapter 23 A Stressful Day

Lyla smirked. “Who said this was hers? There's no name on it. I say it's mine. Don't worry. We were

able to chase her out seven years ago. What can she do to us now?” With that, she went off with the

design book in her hands. Leila quickly held her back. “Hey, wait. You should behave yourself more

these days. Don't make your father angry again. He was busy enough as it is all morning with that

post of you on the internet.”

"What post on the internet?” Lyla was perplexed. She was so occupied with the design sketches that

she did not manage to get on the internet. “I think one of the customers at the restaurant yesterday

recorded a short clip of what happened and put it online. Look at this,” Leila said as she pulled up

that video to show Lyla. Lyla was fuming by the end of it. Who had that much time to waste to put

something as trivial as that on the internet?

"What did Dad say?”

“What can he say in front of me? Anyway, he did not seem too happy. Last night, he even told me

that he had never felt so humiliated in his life before. He only married Camila off to Miles for your

sake, but you need to know when to back off too. More importantly, Camila is back now. I don't

think your father is that mad at her anymore. He even brought up her child yesterday and seemed

quite happy as he was talking. You and Miles are also on good terms now so don’t bother Camila

for no good reason. Come home this weekend for a meal. Bring Mitch along too.”

Lyla answered, “I got it.”

The moment Lyla returned home that night, the suffocating smell of cigarettes filled her throat. She

looked over and saw Miles nestled on the sofa completely wasted. His facial hair had grown out, the

corners of his lips were slightly swollen, and he looked like a mess. Did he get beaten up? She

changed out of her shoes and went inside. At the dining table, a chubby little boy, Mitchell Ryan,

threw the bowl in front of him to the ground in defiance. “I don't want this! I said I don't want to eat

this!” Mrs. Moore walked over to pick up the bowl. “Okay, you don't have to eat it. What would you

like to eat then, Young Master Mitchell?” “Meat. I already told you I want to eat braised pork belly,”

he said. Coming home after a stressful day to a crying child and a husband who looked like he was

neither dead nor alive made her anger shoot up in an instant.

“Miles, can't you hear the kid crying? Why aren't you taking care of him?” Miles was feeling foggy

from the alcohol, but when he heard Lyla criticizing him, he immediately got furious.

“What are you yelling at me for? Isn't there someone taking care of him?"

She retorted, “Can't you see that Mrs. Moore isn't able to handle him at all?” Miles sat up and

argued, “Then hire someone else. Why did you hire her when she can't do anything right? I told you

to let my mother look after the kid, but you insisted on looking after him yourself. Why don't you

look after him then? Why are you yelling at me?"

Lyla was enraged. She took a few steps forward and pushed him off the sofa. “Do you hear yourself?

Is he not your child too?” He looked a little drunk, but his mind was clear. Everything Camila said to

him that day still lingered in his ear. He only separated from Camila because of this woman, but he

was blind to have married such a vulgar woman. After he eased his spinning head, he reached out

and flung Lyla onto the sofa. Pinching her chin, he mocked, “How do I know if he’s actually my

child? Tell me; how was I so blind to marry a whore like you?”