NovelEnglishJonathan peered through the windshield at the traffic ahead, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Feeling a bit unsettled because you think she's too eager, too impatient?" Estelle shook her head. "Put yourself in her shoes. Anyone would be desperate to learn about their origins, to meet their biological family as soon as possible. It's only natural. We can't blher. I'm just worried because Old Mr. Quintin and Evelyn are so overjoyed. What if Evelyn isn't Vivian's daughter?" "Then let's not wait for Vivian to return. We should just get the DNA test done now," suggested Jonathan. “The longer we wait, the messier it could get." Old Mr. Quintin had already grown fond of Evelyn, treating her like his own granddaughter. The deeper his affection grew over time, the more devastating the disappointment would be. Estelle relayed Old Mr. Jarvis's perspective, "Grandpa was quite clear. Old Mr. Quintin wants to use Evelyn as a way to bring Vivian back home. If we get the test done and it turns out there's no blood relation, and Vivian doesn't cback, wouldn't Old Mr. Quintin be even more heartbroken?" Jonathan let out a half-hearted chuckle. "So, we're caught between a rock and a hard place, huh?" "All I can hope for now," Estelle said, "is that Evelyn truly is Old Mr. Quintin's granddaughter, that there's been no mistake." Jonathan took Estelle's hand, offering comfort. “I understand your concerns, but you haven't done anything wrong. There's no need for undue worry. We've done our part; the rest is up to fate." Estelle intertwined her fingers with his. "That's all we can do at this point!" Everything hinged on Vivian's return. Two days later. At eight in the morning, Estelle opened her eyes to find Jonathan lying beside her, his gaze intently fixed on her. "Did you dream?" he asked softly. Estelle pondered for a moment. "I did, but I can't remember what about." Jonathan chuckled lowly. "Today, you woke up on your own." Estelle blinked, then a smile crept into her eyes as she reached out and embraced him, burying herself in his warmth. Jonathan stroked her hair gently. "I love it when you're willing to admit you're wrong." Estelle playfully bit at him. "When I..." He pinched her chin, his handseyes twinkling. "When you bite me." Estelle turned to nip at his hand, but Jonathan leaned down, pinning her to the bed with a deep ki*s. Estelle struggled slightly, her voice muffled. “We haven't even freshened up—” “I'm already clean, no need to worry about me!" he said huskily. "And I certainly don't mind you!" With her hands restrained and her big eyes staring at the ceiling, Estelle protested, "Jonathan, don't you have work?" "I'm skipping work today. I've even thought up an excuse." "What excuse?" "The CEO wants a daughter." Estelle paused, then a cascade of ki*ses rained down, engulfing her in his passion. By the tthey got out of bed, it was nearly noon, and Estelle's stomach was growling. Jonathan suggested they go out for brunch, but Estelle was too lazy to move, so they settled for ordering delivery. After eating, they headed out together. Jonathan draped a coat over Estelle's shoulders and wrapped a scarf around her, holding her hand as they walked outside. “You go to work. I'll drop by Old Mr. Quintin's place to check if there's any news about Vivian," Estelle said, her face half-hidden by the cozy scarf, her eyes twinkling like stars. Jonathan nodded. “I'll drive you there." "No need. It's out of your way, and you'll lose over an hour. I can drive myself!" Estelle insisted. "Be good, or I won't let you play hooky on workdays again." Jonathan smiled. “Yes, Mrs. CEO, I'm off to make us smoney." "Good boy!" Estelle tiptoed to pull down the scarf and planted a ki*s on his stubbled chin.
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