Alessia gazed fondly at her bright and affectionate children, feeling a warmth spread through her heart.
She gently tousled her son and daughter's hair, asking, "Do you really want mommy to help Grandma Evelyn get better just because you like her?"
"Yeah," Christian nodded eagerly, "Mom, you know, when I first saw Grandma Evelyn, I just felt this connection. She's like a real grandma to me, and I want to be close to her."
Eleanor nodded along, sharing her own sentiments about Evelyn.
"Mom, when I walked into her room and saw her lying there so pale, my heart just sank," Eleanor said, her voice tinged with sadness.
As Eleanor spoke, Alessia noticed how they were both observing her closely.
The more they looked, the more they seemed to notice. "Mom, it's true," Christian exclaimed. "I never realized it before, but your nose and lips really resemble Grandma Evelyn's. No wonder I feel so comfortable around her."
It seemed Christian had figured out why he felt drawn to Evelyn, and he couldn't contain his excitement.
Meanwhile, Alessia began to think deeply. She wasn't one to believe in coincidences without reason.
Just then, Dominic approached, having overheard their conversation with the children.
He reached out to hold Alessia's hand, but she pulled back, eyeing him cautiously.
Realizing his misstep, Dominic cleared his throat and got straight to the point, relaying Gordon's message.
"Mr. Gordon wanted me to tell you that you're his daughter."
Arching an eyebrow, Alessia quickly grasped the implication. "So Gordon wants me to recognize him in exchange for helping Mrs. Laroux?"
"That's the gist of it," Dominic confirmed, noting Alessia's stoic expression with a pang of sympathy. If recognizing one's lineage required bargaining, it made those familial ties seem almost meaningless.
"Sia, you don't have to put yourself through this," Dominic urged, his heart aching for her. "While the Laroux family may be prominent in Toronto, the Carter is wealthier. We don't need to associate with them."
Moved by his protective stance, Alessia softened slightly. "I've agreed to help Mrs. Laroux not to get into the Laroux family. I won't acknowledge Gordon."
Dominic was taken aback.
Alessia glanced at her children and continued, "I'm doing this for Christian and Elle. They really like her."
In truth, she had already made up her mind when she saw her children interacting with Evelyn in the hospital room.
With Elle and Chris being so young, their fondness for an elder was rare. How could she disappoint them?
Yet, she couldn't overlook Gordon's presumptuousness. Even if his actions were motivated by concern for Evelyn, she couldn't condone them.
Love was precious, but wasn't family equally important?
She didn't want to acknowledge Gordon, yet she couldn't bring herself to forgive him. To know of her existence but guard against her, as though wishing she'd never entered their lives-how could that not sting?
"I won't inform Gordon. I'll arrange the surgery directly with the hospital director," Alessia declared.
"But Mr. Gordon's signature is required for the surgery," Dominic reminded her, understanding her reluctance. He wished he could gather her in his arms, feeling regret for not being more forceful with Gordon during their conversation.
Alessia pondered for a moment before replying, "Then notify him one hour before the surgery."
Dominic agreed wholeheartedly with her approach. If it made Gordon worry for even a minute longer, so be it. It was a form of retribution.
"Alright, I'll follow your lead," Dominic acquiesced, feeling like a willing follower without boundaries.
"How sweet," Christian interjected suddenly.
Eleanor, ever perceptive, caught on immediately. "Yeah, mom and dad are being lovey-dovey. Chris, remember the TV show we watched yesterday? It talked about 'when the wife orders, the husband follows.'"
Christian nodded in agreement. "Of course I remember," he said, pointing at Alessia and Dominic, "Wife orders, husband follows!"
With that, he laughed and ran off, followed by Eleanor.
As they watched their children frolic away, Alessia and Dominic's eyes met, and for a moment, the atmosphere shifted. It was as though a hint of sweetness lingered in the air.
Alessia looked away, her lips curving into a smile, and Dominic's grin widened.
Just then, they spotted Tiffany approaching with a plethora of gifts, and the sweet ambiance dissipated as quickly as it had appeared.
Tiffany limped closer, her injured leg seemingly forgotten as she greeted them with a cheerful smile.
"Dom, Sia, you're both here! I come to see Aunt Brenda and bring her some things from my mom."
Alessia frowned. Her relationship with Tiffany was far from good, especially after what happened at the hospital earlier that day.
Tiffany's ability to act as if nothing had happened was something Alessia couldn't manage.
With a simple nod, Alessia left immediately.
Watching Alessia go, Dominic followed suit without acknowledging Tiffany's greeting. It was a direct snub.
Tiffany clenched her fists. Was Dominic really going to treat her like a stranger? She wouldn't let them get away with it.
Taking a deep breath, Tiffany glanced into the courtyard. She wasn't afraid; she had a trump card up her sleeve.
With a renewed smile on her face, Tiffany stepped into the yard.
Inside, Brenda was watching Christopher practice painting.
The little boy sat upright, his chubby face serious and focused. Beside him, Brenda, elegant and graceful despite her age, looked on with affection.
The grandmother and grandson made for a picturesque scene.
As Tiffany entered, Brenda looked up. Seeing who it was, she gestured for silence.
Frowning slightly, Tiffany nodded and Brenda led her out of the room. Once they were a few steps away, away from the range of Christopher's hearing, Brenda spoke.
"Tiffany, you have some free time today."
"Yeah. My mom asked me to bring some bird's nest for you." Tiffany nodded, feeling uneasy as she broached the topic.
"Aunt Brenda, you're looking much better lately," she said tentatively.
"Really?" Brenda smiled and touched her own face, as if relieved, her eyes filled with indulgence. "Maybe it's because of the three children who have been keeping me busy lately. Having them around has lifted my spirits."
Brenda turned to Tiffany, speaking almost as if to herself. "Tiffany, I've been feeling too confined lately. Perhaps I should try living a different life, stepping out of this courtyard. What do you think?"
Tiffany was taken aback by Brenda's sudden change in attitude. She remembered visiting Brenda not long ago, when she had been melancholy and despondent, on the brink of collapse.
Could it be... the work of those three illegitimate children of Alessia?
"Tiffany?" Brenda noticed Tiffany's fluctuating expression and urged her on, suddenly falling silent herself.
Only then did Tiffany realize her lapse and quickly regained her composure, forcing a smile as she apologized.
"Aunt Brenda, I'm sorry. I just remembered something work-related and got distracted. I think your idea is excellent. You should have left the courtyard long ago. Dom needs you, and Bianca needs you too."
As she spoke, Tiffany recalled a conversation she had accidentally overheard a few days ago, between her brother and Bianca, after they had met face-to-face.
Feeling a pang of excitement, Tiffany saw an opportunity. "Aunt Brenda, although Bianca is pregnant now, there are still preparations to be made. Since it's her first child, she lacks experience. She'll need your help with these matters."
"What did you say? Bianca is pregnant?" Brenda's expression changed abruptly, surprise evident in her voice.
"You didn't know?" Tiffany pretended to be dumbfounded, then acted as if she had realized her mistake and covered her mouth in embarrassment. "Aunt Brenda, I'm sorry, I think I misspoke."
"You didn't misspeak." Brenda interrupted Tiffany, frowning. "Do you know whose child Bianca is carrying?"
Although she rarely left the courtyard, Brenda was aware of Bianca's romantic life.
From childhood to adulthood, she had never had a boyfriend. This sudden pregnancy seemed like someone had taken advantage of her.
Seeing Brenda's emotions stirred by her words, Tiffany breathed a sigh of relief.
Feigning reluctance, she said, "Aunt Brenda, I'm not sure about that. Bianca has grown apart from me and doesn't tell me anything anymore. But she is close to Alessia. Maybe you should ask her."
In other words, 'Don't ask me. Ask Alessia.'
Knowing Brenda would inevitably hold Alessia accountable, Tiffany smiled to herself.
Her plan had worked perfectly.
A mother would never stand by and watch her daughter suffer.
***