However, Purple Summers had already run off, completely ignoring Alexander Summersâ irritation.
A moment later, she returned beaming with joy, holding a book in her arms and showing off to Alexander, âA book by Mr. Matt, with his autograph on the title page!â
Alexander said bluntly, âLetâs go, time to go home and sleep.â
She was so used to his moodiness that she didnât take it too seriously. In a good mood, she said goodbye to Gavin Graves and then followed behind Alexander like a little tail, leaving the studio.
Gavin Graves watched her retreating figure, feeling a chill in his heart.
He never expected that there would be such a hidden connection between him and Purple Summers. If Meredith Richards had stayed in Kingsley, would the situation be different now? â¦Perhaps not.
Experience shapes a personâs character. Purple Summers, having grown up in the Presidential Palace, would inevitably not be the same person she was now.
The melancholy of yearning yet unfulfilled fermented the emotions, turning them intense and bitter.@@novelbin@@
He was, of course, aware of Roy Howardâs warnings and knew that Purple Summers had no interest in him. It was precisely because he understood all this that he felt even more desolateâ¦
â¦
After a whole night of reflection, the Simonson family seemed to have accepted the existence of Purple Summers.
The family gathered around the table for breakfast, each lost in their thoughts.
Christopher Simonson was in a daze, thinking about having a daughter who had already grown up so much without his knowledge, and his heart was filled with indescribable mixed emotions.
Caitlin Carter, on the other hand, thought that no matter what had happened in the past, a child was ultimately innocent and shouldnât be swept into such turmoil, and ought to be brought back for care and compensation.
Old Mrs. Simonson, however, had a very poor first impression of Purple Summers, and now that it affected her sonâs presidential election, she disliked Purple Summers even more. Yet, when she saw the photos of Purple Summers, who had striking resemblance to Christopher Simonson, she felt a sliver of affectionâafter all, blood was blood, and she could even discern traces of her younger self in Purple Summersâ features.
But why did it have to be that womanâs child?
The old lady was both resentful and reluctant, her mood so conflicted that it felt like a clump of silt was lodged in her chest, brewing a gentle and persistent discomfort.
âBeing raised without parentsâ discipline has made her so arrogant and unmanageable!â she complained with drooping eyelids, âAfter all, sheâs a child of the Simonson family. Once we bring her back, sheâll be properly educated to avoid shame in public.â
Everyone at the table ate in silence, with no one responding.
Old Mrs. Simonsonâs pent-up resentment had no outlet, and her tone grew increasingly harsh, âIs she satisfied now? All that scheming was just to enter the doors of my Simonson family, right? Fine, let it be as she wishes! Itâs also time for her to learn from Violet on how to be a true refined lady and a daughter of wealth!â
âMom, if this child is truly my flesh and blood, shouldnât we be the ones to properly make it up to her?â Christopher Simonson found her words grating and couldnât help but interject, âWhy are you always like this? Is it that you canât accept anyone into the Simonson family without your reeducation?â
Old Mrs. Simonsonâs lowered eyelids shot up, and she glared in anger, âYouâre defending her already?! When that woman left, I didnât see her pregnant! We still donât know for sure whose child it is, and youâre picking a fight with me over some bastard of uncertain origin? Do you still have any respect for your mother?!â
âBang!
A delicately painted sky-blue floral porcelain bowl was forcefully placed on the table, making a sound.
The arguing at the dining table momentarily fell silent.
Old Master Simonson picked up a teacup from beside him nonchalantly, took a sip, and said, âCaitlin, arrange for a servant to clean up a room later, the room at the southwest corner is quite nice, next to the sunroom facing south. Open the window and you can see all the flowers and plants; any young girl would like that.â
Old Mrs. Simonson objected, âThat room is Violetâs music room, why should we give it to her?!â
âBecause she has Simonson blood flowing through her veins,â replied the old master.