Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 828: Son, Are You Interfering in Someone Else’s Marriage?

Chapter 828: Chapter 828: Son, Are You Interfering in Someone Else’s Marriage?

The meal was an awkward affair. Once Catherine Ford and Alice left, Mrs. Jones crossed her legs and fixed her gaze on Benjamin Jones. "Explain yourself, son."

Benjamin Jones couldn’t be bothered with his mother. "The food’s been delivered, the guests met, I’ll have the driver take you home."

After he finished speaking, Benjamin Jones intended to go upstairs, but Mrs. Jones got angry, "Benjamin Jones!"

Benjamin turned around, "Mom, everything is as Miss Ford explained. None of the things you’ve imagined are true."

"What do you mean ’imagined’? Isn’t it obvious what’s going on?" Mrs. Jones was infuriated, unable to understand why her son was so unapproachable. Both she and her husband weren’t too harsh, yet why did they raise such an ice block? As a child, his old-man-like demeanor, coupled with his looks, made him seem cute and naive. But as he grew up, his cold aura was so imposing that even she, his mother, sometimes felt timid. However, today’s matter was different; she had to ask everything clearly.

Benjamin frowned, his mother had been so spoiled by his father over the years that she couldn’t tell wheat from chaff, but she wasn’t unreasonable. Yet, even now when he’s explained the situation, she still insisted on her viewpoint, giving him quite a headache, "Mom, Miss Ford is my client. She’s just gotten divorced. Don’t go matching her up with anyone."

Mrs. Jones was shocked, "What? Why did she get a divorce? Son, did you meddle in someone’s marriage?"

Benjamin, thinking the conversation would quiet down at this point, was taken aback to hear this. He slowly looked up at his mother; if anyone else had said this, he would have already sent them away. But right now, all he could do was take a deep breath, "Mother."

"Don’t you snap at me! If you didn’t intrude into her marriage, then why does Alice look exactly like you when you were young? And you kindly took on a divorce case and even arranged accommodation for her? Don’t think I’m easy to fool just because I’m old," Mrs. Jones rambled on, ignoring the warning undertone in her son’s words.

Benjamin couldn’t help but laugh at his mother’s anger. What did she mean by Alice looking exactly like he did when he was young? He didn’t see it at all.

"I have work to do, stay if you like," said Benjamin, and went straight upstairs.

Mrs. Jones was still muttering to herself. When she realized her son went upstairs and even closed the study door, she stomped her foot in anger, "Stinky boy, hiding things from your own mother. Just you wait."

After saying that, Mrs. Jones walked outside and then, remembering something, she took her thermos flask with her. Why should she bother feeding that ungrateful thing?

Actually, he didn’t need her as a mother at all.

But then she thought about the breakfast Catherine Ford had made and couldn’t help feeling annoyed; it was certainly better than what she had brought.

When she got home, Mrs. Jones was still fuming. Approaching her husband, who was watering the flowers, she huffed, "Hmph, your precious son."

Mr. Jones glanced at the thermos which looked untouched and then at his wife’s angry expression, amused, "I told you to leave him be. You insisted on delivering your ’loving’ breakfast early in the morning. Did he not appreciate it, huh?"

Even his father found his son’s temper a headache.

"I’m not angry about that. Do you know? Your son is a scumbag. He meddled in someone else’s marriage, even caused that girl to have a child, and now she’s divorced, he refuses to acknowledge the child!" Mrs. Jones fumed with rage as she brought up the matter.

Mr. Jones was taken aback, his brows furrowing, "Could there be some misunderstanding? Benjamin isn’t the kind of child to be so indiscreet."

"I hope so too," Mrs. Jones said, before turning to enter the bedroom.

Mr. Jones followed her, puzzled, only to see his wife start rummaging through cabinets and drawers until she finally pulled out a photo album from the bottom of a trunk.

"What do you need that for?" Mr. Jones asked, although he moved closer to his wife.

Mrs. Jones didn’t respond to her husband and hurriedly opened the album, quickly flipping to the pages with photos of Benjamin Jones as a child. She sighed softly and then looked up at her husband, "I was just worried that my memory was failing due to my age, but after seeing these pictures, I’m even more certain that there’s a seventy to eighty percent chance that the girl is your son’s offspring."

"That similar?" Mr. Jones asked, looking at the album at a photo of his son at age three, questioning in disbelief.

"She resembles him a bit now, but she’s ninety percent like him at the age of three, like a copy-paste job, incredibly beautiful. It’s just that your son looked like a little old man at three, while Alice is different, she has a particularly sweet little mouth and keeps calling me grandma," Mrs. Jones continued, the face that was obviously fifty but looked no more than forty, completely filled with a gentle and loving radiance.

Mr. Jones watched with a mixture of shock and apprehension, and it took a while for him to steady his voice, "Is she really that similar?"

"Would I joke about something like this? If you don’t believe me, come and see for yourself. Catherine is preparing breakfast and dinner for your son every day, saying that she owes him money. With Amei not being present, she’s cooking meals for a month as a debt repayment," Mrs. Jones laughed at her own words, not expecting her son to be such a scumbag.

Mr. Jones felt speechless upon hearing this. He knew his son better than anyone else. These past years, being a lawyer had made him cold and heartless, even more so since the incident with the Smith girl. Without going into detail about how exactly his son lent money to that girl, using the method of repaying by cooking clearly had no good intentions.

"How is the girl? If she really had an affair during marriage, she must be quite scheming, right? And you of all people should know your son—besides the girl from the Smiths, when has he ever been close to any other girl?" Mr. Jones, still more composed than his wife, pondered for a moment before inquiring. He knew his son well enough; despite being extraordinarily intelligent and outstanding at work, his romantic life has been rather vacant. If he encountered someone highly manipulative, he might not be able to see through it.

"You mean Catherine? She seems simple enough, pretty and fair-skinned. Everything else is pretty ordinary, though her cooking skills are unquestionable." Mrs. Jones reminisced about the porridge she had that morning but was suddenly struck by a thought, "Husband, I get it now!"

Mr. Jones, startled by his wife’s sudden outburst, felt a pang of nervousness, "You get what?"

"I knew I found that girl somewhat familiar. As soon as you mentioned Abigail, it came to me. She does look a bit like that Smith girl, although her demeanor is quite different; that girl was soft and mild to a fault. While I did find her familiar, I never made the connection," Mrs. Jones excitedly claimed, as if having discovered something monumental.

If Mr. Jones had any doubts before about his son being involved in such an affair, now, with his wife pointing out the resemblance to the Smith girl, he believed it eighty percent. However, he still felt regretful, "Wife, you said the little girl is three and a half years old? Then wouldn’t that mean Catherine was pregnant with a child four years ago? That... seems unlikely, doesn’t it?"

"Facts speak louder than words. How about I take you to try our luck this afternoon?" Mrs. Jones said eagerly.

She didn’t have a bad impression of Catherine Ford, and she was particularly fond of Alice. Plus, she had heard from her son that Catherine had divorced her previous husband. Although she was now remarried, if her son truly was the instigator who ruined Catherine’s marriage, then he would have to take responsibility for this mess, especially since Alice was so young and in need of a father.

Mr. Jones looked at his wife with a complex gaze, "Why do I feel like you’re happy about this?"

If all of this were true, the Jones family would have no idea what kind of spine-chilling gossip they would have to endure afterward.

"You have no idea what those people say behind our backs. One minute they suggest Benjamin is gay, that he got himself a boyfriend—his secretary. The next minute they say Benjamin offended someone, was drugged, and left unable to handle personal affairs. Or another time some psychological disorder, basically all sorts of rumors have been flying about him not dating or marrying these past years. You’re a man and in a high position, so they dare not gossip in your presence, but I’m different. Every time I’m so angry I could explode, yet I have to bear it," Mrs. Jones vented with anger in her eyes, glaring at her husband.

"You have had it hard," Mr. Jones said sympathetically, patting his wife’s hand, "But we must take our time planning for this matter. It would be best to get a paternity test done first, to confirm that the child is indeed Benjamin’s. This way, he can’t deny it even if he wants to."

"Yes, just like that." As soon as Mrs. Jones heard this idea, she readily picked up a photo of her son at age three and examined it, feeling that her husband’s thoughts were more thorough.

...

Rose Valley.

Catherine Ford only had time to check her phone after returning to her villa and saw a message from Benjamin Jones at 7:30, telling her not to come over in the morning.

Since she slept in late that morning, she hadn’t checked her phone. Now looking at the message, she felt her face heat up even more and carefully crafted a reply, "Sorry, Lawyer Jones, I overslept this morning and didn’t see your message, causing you trouble."

There was no reply for a long time. Catherine grew so anxious she left the house and discovered that Benjamin Jones was also just coming out. From a short distance, she glanced at him and mustered the courage to approach, "Lawyer Jones, did you see the message I sent you?"

Benjamin Jones pulled out his phone and looked at it, then lifted his head, "No problem."

"That’s good." Catherine thought to herself that the man hadn’t seen it and felt a sigh of relief, but then heard him ask, "You mentioned last time about suing your ex-husband. Do you still plan to do that?"

Catherine tensed up. She had been so angry and desperate at the time, wishing she could take Foster Newman down with her. But after being busy for a week and cooling down, considering her current situation, financially and time-wise, she couldn’t afford a drawn-out fight with Foster Newman, not to mention her parents. Leaving aside whether she could win, even if she succeeded in getting Foster Newman imprisoned, what would become of her family in Newman Village?

She had too many concerns.

And she didn’t want to owe Benjamin Jones any more.

With a sense of resignation, she shook her head at Benjamin Jones, "I’m sorry, Lawyer Jones."

"You have your considerations; there’s no need to apologize to me." Benjamin Jones could probably guess what Catherine was thinking. After finishing, he added, "You don’t have to appeal, but I will send a lawyer’s letter to his company on your behalf so that they will be more cautious in their future actions."

"Thank you, Lawyer Jones." Catherine was immensely grateful, then remembered Alice’s schooling in the community’s child care center, "Lawyer Jones, if you’re free tonight, could I take you out for dinner? I really appreciate everything you’ve done recently."

"Alice should also thank Uncle too." Alice was well-behaved and hadn’t interrupted while her mother and Benjamin Jones were talking until Catherine expressed her thanks, then she earnestly chimed in, raising her little face.

"Heh, okay." Benjamin Jones had a refusal on the tip of his tongue, but looking into Alice’s sparkling eyes suddenly changed his mind.

"Uncle is so nice." Alice exclaimed happily, her little face beaming with innocent joy.

Watching her, Benjamin suddenly remembered his mother’s words, ’Alice looks just like you when you were little.’ His expression froze for a moment. His gaze still on Alice’s soft and cute face, but now with a hint of inquiry, ’Do we really look alike?’

This thought haunted Benjamin, and as he got into the car, he nonchalantly asked Reed, who was driving, "Does Alice resemble me?"

Reed, confused by the question, responded, "Why would Alice look like you?"

Upon hearing this, Benjamin also felt that his mother had made him a bit neurotic. Right, how could Alice possibly grow up to look like him? Even if there were a resemblance, it would be a coincidence, and besides, he hadn’t seen any similarity!

But just as he finished that thought, Reed unexpectedly blurted out, "Now that you mention it, there is a resemblance, especially around the eyes and nose—it’s quite striking."

Benjamin Jones, "..." Why didn’t he see it?

Even though Reed said that, Benjamin didn’t take it to heart. In his view, his life intersected with Catherine Ford’s in no way, even less so four or five years ago.

As for Catherine, she let out a deep breath after Benjamin Jones’s car drove away. She could tell that he didn’t take his mother’s misunderstanding to heart today, hadn’t given it another thought, and didn’t blame her, which relaxed her anxious heart quite a bit. freeweɓnovel.cѳm

In her eyes, things were perfectly fine as they were now. Alice could occasionally see her father without fear of being taken away, and their relationship could remain somewhere between strangers and friends.

"Mommy, what are you thinking about?" Alice looked up curiously when she heard Catherine exhale.

"Thinking about what if you don’t behave later, and the teacher doesn’t like you and doesn’t want you?" Catherine teased.

Hearing this, Alice patted her small chest confidently, "Alice is so pretty and cute, everyone will love me, and the teacher is sure to like Alice."

"Hahaha, my dear, why are you so vain?" Catherine was amused by her daughter and couldn’t resist pinching Alice’s little nose.

But Alice was serious, "Mommy, I’m not being vain; I’m stating facts."

Catherine continued to laugh, "Alright, alright, facts. Our Alice is the prettiest and cutest in the whole wide world."

"That’s not right. Alice is the cutest in the whole world, and Mommy is the prettiest." Little Alice earnestly explained to her mother, her little face beaming with pride.

Catherine was touched and a bit overwhelmed, looking down to kiss her daughter’s head, "My little flatterer."

Catherine. Little Flatterer. Alice felt even prouder.

Thanks to Benjamin Jones’s instructions, Catherine Ford’s communication with the property manager went much smoother. He personally took her to the child care center and handled all the procedures himself, apologizing throughout for not realizing she was a family member of Lawyer Jones.

Catherine Ford didn’t know what Benjamin Jones had told them and didn’t explain further. Holding Alice’s hand, she toured the early education classes, the child care center, and the playground, internally sighing at how great it is to have money; the classrooms and environment here were even better than the kindergarten she had previously sent Alice to, equipped with a full range of facilities, including three meals a day provided free for all the children.

Once they received all the documents, the little girl happily jumped and skipped away. Watching this, Catherine felt happy but also a touch of melancholy.

She just thought about keeping a certain distance from Benjamin Jones, but seeing how joyful Alice was, she couldn’t help but question herself, feeling selfish for considering this—Alice with that man could have the best of everything, but if she remained with Catherine after they left Rose Valley, she would have to face many difficulties...