Chapter 511

Frederick’s anger simmered with every passing thought, and despite this woman now having the backing of the illustrious Fitzgerald family, he was not about to let her off the hook so easily.

“Manley, why on earth didn’t you tell me about something so important?” Frederick’s voice rose, laced with a fury that made the_ room shrink.

Manley, visibly shaken, stuttered out an explanation, his body trembling, “I had just finished my checkup yesterday when I saw Hayes at the hospital. I told him to hit the road quick, didn’t want him giving any blood. Mom promised she wouldn’t take Hayes’ blood, so I didn’t tell you.

-Dad, please don’t be mad, you’re scaring me…”

It was then that Frederick realized his panic had unnerved the little guy.

He sighed softly, drawing Manley into his arms and asked with a calmer demeanor, “So now, can you tell Dad what else you overheard from Mom?”

Manley blinked up at his father, racking his brain for memories.

He had also heard that Mom was taking the blood of the mute to kill him… If he spilled the beans, wouldn’t that make Mom a murderer? But if he told Dad, could his father prevent it all?

Manley mulled it over, torn about whether to confide in his father.

As he remained silent, Frederick thought maybe Manley genuinely couldn’t remember.

After all, Manley had always been a bit slow on the uptake, and he had just given him a fright-it wouldn’t be unusual for him to have forgotten some things.

He tenderly stroked Manley’s hair, his tone gentle, “If you can’t remember, then let it be. But Manley, would you and Hayes like to come live with me?”

Manley was perplexed. What did Dad mean by that?

“What about Mom?” He asked.

“Just us, without her.”

What? Without Mom? Was Dad thinking of kicking Mom out of the house again?

He had been ready to tell his father about Mom’s intentions to harm Hayes, but hearing his father speak like this made him even more afraid to reveal the truth.

If he lost his Mom, who would have his back?

Even though he had started to see Hayes differently, Mom had told him Hayes was a bad kid, that he needed to be tough with him or he’d end up getting bullied!

He didn’t want to be without Mom, nor did he want to be bullied by Hayes!

Thinking this made Manley especially angry, and he shouted at Frederick, “I don’t want to! I can’t be without Mom! I won’t live with you!”

Frederick’s face darkened, his voice stern, “Manley!”

Marguerite watched the standoff between the man and the boy, both as combative as sworn enemies, neither willing to give an inch.

She stepped forward, her voice soft but firm, “Enough. Manley is only three years old. It’s too soon for this talk; he doesn’t understand.”

Frederick, frustrated and agitated, couldn’t help but retort, “A child’s easily influenced by his families!

Now’s the time to set boundaries. How can I assert my authority when Yuna’s always whispering in his ear?”

“That sounds awfully familiar,” Marguerite mused, then it hit her, “Aren’t those my own words from before? You listened well enough to remember them clearly.”

Frederick was speechless.

What was this woman doing, interfering while he was disciplining his child?

Yet, it was odd. As far as he was concerned, any love he had once held for Marguerite was long ground to dust by his resentment. But her words, her actions, they haunted him, resurfacing in his mind unbidden.

Frederick fell silent, but just then, Chuck burst in again, frantic.

“Mr. Winston, there’s trouble! Maurice is downstairs being blocked by the security! He’s trying to barge in, but they won’t let him because of your orders. I just saw him; he looks like he’s calling for backup. Is this going to turn into a brawl?”