Chapter 22 Just Like Grandma
Becky laughed. “So you can talk. Thank you for the compliment
The little boy bashfully lowered his head. “Thanks!”
He was so adorable that Becky couldn’t help but ruffle his hair.
“Can you tell me your parents’ phone number? I’ll call them.”
“I don’t remember.”
Becky frowned. “Then what do we do?”
—
She thought for a second. The only option left was to call the police.
you’re super handsome too!”
Just as she pulled out her phone to dial, a tall teenage boy came hurrying over with a pizza bag in hand.
“Hanson!”
“Hey!”
The little boy jumped up and threw himself into the teenager’s arms, clinging tightly.
“I couldn’t find you,” he sniffled.
“I told you to stay put and wait for me, didn’t I?”
“I couldn’t see you. I got scared.”
The teenager gently patted his back, comforting him. “It’s okay now. Don’t be scared.”
Then he looked at Becky – and froze.
Sharon came trotting over and hooked her arm around Becky’s. “Let’s go.”
“Okay.” Becky gave the boy a small nod and turned to leave.
As she walked away, Hanson whispered, “That pretty lady looks just like Grandma.”
The teenager agreed. He let go of Hanson. “Wait here.”
He broke into a jog, heading after Becky.
“What are you doing?” Hanson asked.
But he was too late
–
Becky had already gotten into a cab.
Hanson caught up. “Why were you chasing the pretty lady?”
The older boy shook his head. “No reason. Let’s go.”
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could tell they’re from a rich family.”
Becky smiled. “I hope my kid turns out just as cute.”
“Oh, please
–
you and him have amazing genes. That baby’s bound to be gorgeous.”
“Fingers crossed. Gotta inherit the best from both me and Xavier.”
Suddenly Sharon pointed out the window. “Becky, look over there!”
Becky turned to see what she was pointing at.
An insanely grand building loomed outside.
“What’s that place?”
“It’s a hotel. Bolt Hotel. One of the most luxurious in the world. It’s owned by the Shanks family. Insanely high-end! I heard even a standard room costs over a hundred thousand a night. The presidential suite? Even crazier.”
“the Shanks family?”
“Yeah. the Shanks family is huge. Global reach, but super low profile. I only know this much because of a few well-connected friends. Honestly, we regular folks can’t even imagine how powerful the Shanks family really is.”
Becky tried to recall if the novel ever mentioned the Shanks family.
Nothing came to mind
–
maybe the author had gone on hiatus before writing that arc.
At Bolt Hotel, Aaron Shanks returned with his brother.
As they neared the entrance, a group of bodyguards surrounded them.
“Where did you two go?! You scared us to death!”
Aaron’s face remained impassive. “Hanson wanted pizza.”
No matter the reason, they were back now that was what mattered. If anything had happened to the kids, they’d all be packing their bags.
“Mr. Shanks is waiting in the suite.”
Aaron nodded and led his brother inside.
The doors to the presidential suite opened.
Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window was a tall, elegant man. He wore a tailored shirt and vest, exuding cold nobility.
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The man turned to face them, his voice stern. “Why did you go out without telling anyone?”
Hanson ran to him and hugged his leg. “Daddy, it was my fault! I wanted pizza, and I threw a fit, so Aaron
took me.”
Wayne Shanks raised a brow and looked down at the little guy clinging to his leg. “How exactly did you throw a fit?”
Hanson let go, flopped dramatically onto the floor, kicked and flailed, and yelled, “I want pizza! I want pizza! I want it now! Buy it for me!”
Wayne and Aaron both twitched at the sight.
When Hanson finished his performance, he calmly got up and hugged Wayne’s leg again.
“That’s what I did, Daddy.”
Wayne couldn’t help but chuckle. How the hell did I end up with such a dramatic little kid?
He turned to Aaron. “Don’t spoil your brother like that. Let him cry if he wants to cry.”
Aaron frowned slightly and glanced at Hanson, looking a little guilty.
“Dad…”
Wayne sighed. His eldest was way too soft – always giving in to Hanson.
“You’ll ruin him like this. He’s not a little girl. No more giving in to every little tantrum. Got it?”
Aaron nodded. “Okay.”
Hanson pouted. “You’re too controlling, Dad. If Aaron wants to spoil me, let him!”
“Hanson!”
Wayne’s tone sharpened.
Hanson immediately shrank back and hid behind Aaron.
“Pizza.”
Aaron reminded him gently, “Wash your hands first.”
Hanson obediently ran to the bathroom.
Aaron hesitated for a moment, then looked at Wayne. “Dad, I saw someone earlier… she looked a lot like Grandma.”
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