Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 72: Chapter 72
You are reading Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness, Chapter 72: Chapter 72. Read more chapters of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness.
A sense of oppression approached with his steps, and Clara visibly stiffened her back.
His gaze swept coolly over the three of us, finally settling on my face, his eyes darkening.
Elodie was still gnawing on a chicken leg. When she turned to see him, she politely said: "Hello, uncle."
She seemed to have no fear of him, actually appearing more natural than before.
Clara wiped sweat from her forehead and quickly stood up with a smile: "Mr. Cavendish is here, please sit."
He nodded but didn't rush to sit down. Instead, he walked in a wide circle and sat down directly next to me.
I looked at him, frowning: "Didn't you say you weren't coming?"
His tone was flat: "I changed my mind. Is that not allowed?"
I said nothing more, turning to pick up my drink to mask my discomfort.
His gaze swept around my area, suddenly frowning: "Did you dislocate your jaw?"
I was startled and looked down to see rice scattered around the bowl's edge.
That position... was Callum's. In my panic, I had sat in the wrong seat.
I forced a smile, not knowing what expression to show, and bent down to clean the table to divert attention.
After cleaning up, I looked up pretending nothing happened: "I eat quickly, is that not allowed?"
He said nothing, continuing to survey the dishes on the table.
My heart panicked more.
There was a whole table of food, each dish touched—it was unreasonable for three people to eat all this.
Sure enough, the next second he spoke: "You have quite an appetite. Three people almost finished an entire table of food."
I knew he was suspicious.
I took a deep breath and directly stabbed a piece of steak with my fork, gnawing on it while glaring at him: "I have a big appetite, so what?"
Clara laughed awkwardly from the side. Since she was the host today, she knew she should smooth things over, so she called the waiter to order more dishes.
But before the waiter could leave, there was suddenly a "clang" from the restroom area.
Clara and I both jumped simultaneously.
We stiffly turned toward the restroom.
The room fell into eerie silence.
Arnold raised an eyebrow slightly, his gaze turning toward the restroom: "...Is there someone in there?"
Clara took a deep breath, glanced toward the restroom, trying to sound natural: "No one. Today I only invited you and Miss Reynolds, where would other people come from?"
Arnold raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly cool: "Then why is there still noise?"
My heart tightened. Seeing the suspicion floating in his dark eyes, I immediately realized the situation was bad.
He actually stood up, heading toward the restroom.
Just as I was about to stand up to stop him, Clara had already stepped forward. Our eyes met, hers full of tension.
"Mr. Cavendish, you're my guest today. Let the waiter handle such small matters." Her voice tried to remain steady.
I quickly signaled the waiter.
The waiter reacted quickly, immediately entering the restroom to check. A few seconds later, he came out holding a fallen small storage rack.
"The rack fell over. Sorry for disturbing everyone, I'll clean it up right away."
Arnold glanced at the thing, and the suspicion on his face finally cleared somewhat.
"Mr. Cavendish, come, please sit down and eat." Clara made a welcoming gesture.
He nodded slightly, sat back down, picked up his water glass for a light sip, then his gaze fell on me.
"You were looking for me this morning?"
I paused.
"Yes."
"What for?"
I instinctively glanced at Elodie. The little girl was eating with her cheeks puffed up, thoroughly enjoying her food. Thinking of the two little ancestors still hiding under the table, I suddenly felt this wasn't a good time to discuss divorce.
"Let's eat first, we'll talk later."
Elodie innocently spoke up: "Uncle, you should eat quickly. I already tasted everything for you—it's really delicious!"
Arnold's attention was indeed diverted by her words, and he didn't press further.
More dishes were served. I picked up my chopsticks and moved them a bit, but my entire attention was drawn to the two children under the table. I was so nervous my palms were sweating—no matter how delicious the food, it tasted like paper in my mouth.
The two underneath were probably stifling.
They sat cross-legged, their little faces pressed against the underside of the table, small hands supporting their chins, their noses filled with the aroma of food.
Callum was practically drooling, touching his stomach—he had been eating happily when the bad daddy burst in, and now he was both hungry and angry.
He puffed up his cheeks angrily like a little pufferfish, glaring at Arnold's legs wrapped in suit pants, quietly waving his little fist.
Hmph, who told you to surprise attack after saying you wouldn't come! Bad daddy!
But the child didn't control his strength well, and his fist actually hit Arnold's leg.
My heart immediately dropped.
Callum was scared and quickly pulled back his fist. Rowan reacted quickly, pulling him back and carefully holding him tight.
His gaze swept coolly over the three of us, finally settling on my face, his eyes darkening.
Elodie was still gnawing on a chicken leg. When she turned to see him, she politely said: "Hello, uncle."
She seemed to have no fear of him, actually appearing more natural than before.
Clara wiped sweat from her forehead and quickly stood up with a smile: "Mr. Cavendish is here, please sit."
He nodded but didn't rush to sit down. Instead, he walked in a wide circle and sat down directly next to me.
I looked at him, frowning: "Didn't you say you weren't coming?"
His tone was flat: "I changed my mind. Is that not allowed?"
I said nothing more, turning to pick up my drink to mask my discomfort.
His gaze swept around my area, suddenly frowning: "Did you dislocate your jaw?"
I was startled and looked down to see rice scattered around the bowl's edge.
That position... was Callum's. In my panic, I had sat in the wrong seat.
I forced a smile, not knowing what expression to show, and bent down to clean the table to divert attention.
After cleaning up, I looked up pretending nothing happened: "I eat quickly, is that not allowed?"
He said nothing, continuing to survey the dishes on the table.
My heart panicked more.
There was a whole table of food, each dish touched—it was unreasonable for three people to eat all this.
Sure enough, the next second he spoke: "You have quite an appetite. Three people almost finished an entire table of food."
I knew he was suspicious.
I took a deep breath and directly stabbed a piece of steak with my fork, gnawing on it while glaring at him: "I have a big appetite, so what?"
Clara laughed awkwardly from the side. Since she was the host today, she knew she should smooth things over, so she called the waiter to order more dishes.
But before the waiter could leave, there was suddenly a "clang" from the restroom area.
Clara and I both jumped simultaneously.
We stiffly turned toward the restroom.
The room fell into eerie silence.
Arnold raised an eyebrow slightly, his gaze turning toward the restroom: "...Is there someone in there?"
Clara took a deep breath, glanced toward the restroom, trying to sound natural: "No one. Today I only invited you and Miss Reynolds, where would other people come from?"
Arnold raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly cool: "Then why is there still noise?"
My heart tightened. Seeing the suspicion floating in his dark eyes, I immediately realized the situation was bad.
He actually stood up, heading toward the restroom.
Just as I was about to stand up to stop him, Clara had already stepped forward. Our eyes met, hers full of tension.
"Mr. Cavendish, you're my guest today. Let the waiter handle such small matters." Her voice tried to remain steady.
I quickly signaled the waiter.
The waiter reacted quickly, immediately entering the restroom to check. A few seconds later, he came out holding a fallen small storage rack.
"The rack fell over. Sorry for disturbing everyone, I'll clean it up right away."
Arnold glanced at the thing, and the suspicion on his face finally cleared somewhat.
"Mr. Cavendish, come, please sit down and eat." Clara made a welcoming gesture.
He nodded slightly, sat back down, picked up his water glass for a light sip, then his gaze fell on me.
"You were looking for me this morning?"
I paused.
"Yes."
"What for?"
I instinctively glanced at Elodie. The little girl was eating with her cheeks puffed up, thoroughly enjoying her food. Thinking of the two little ancestors still hiding under the table, I suddenly felt this wasn't a good time to discuss divorce.
"Let's eat first, we'll talk later."
Elodie innocently spoke up: "Uncle, you should eat quickly. I already tasted everything for you—it's really delicious!"
Arnold's attention was indeed diverted by her words, and he didn't press further.
More dishes were served. I picked up my chopsticks and moved them a bit, but my entire attention was drawn to the two children under the table. I was so nervous my palms were sweating—no matter how delicious the food, it tasted like paper in my mouth.
The two underneath were probably stifling.
They sat cross-legged, their little faces pressed against the underside of the table, small hands supporting their chins, their noses filled with the aroma of food.
Callum was practically drooling, touching his stomach—he had been eating happily when the bad daddy burst in, and now he was both hungry and angry.
He puffed up his cheeks angrily like a little pufferfish, glaring at Arnold's legs wrapped in suit pants, quietly waving his little fist.
Hmph, who told you to surprise attack after saying you wouldn't come! Bad daddy!
But the child didn't control his strength well, and his fist actually hit Arnold's leg.
My heart immediately dropped.
Callum was scared and quickly pulled back his fist. Rowan reacted quickly, pulling him back and carefully holding him tight.
End of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness Chapter 72. Continue reading Chapter 73 or return to Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness book page.