And The Daddy Is… The Infertile Guy?!

Chapter 8

Gwendolyn recalled the words of how Roselind’s money had been ensnared by the stock market crash and worry creased her brow. Even the cheapest garments in the boutique demanded a small fortune, an amount she wouldn’t spend in half a year back in the countryside.

Her modest savings wouldn’t make a dent.

“A young lady ought to dress in vibrant hues to be the belle of the ball You are a member of the Chadwick family.”

A glimmer of hope flickered in Gwendolyn.

Roselind and Gwendolyn swept through the clothing store like a whirlwind before advancing to the jewelry shop.

Yet, not everyone was pleased to see them.

“Well, if it isn’t Roselind. Fancy seeing you out shopping. I heard your son woke up. Congrats. Shame about the paralysis… Now the Chadwick family’s inheritance will surely fall to Bainbridge,” the haughty woman said, barely concealing her schadenfreude behind a delicate hand.

Howard’s excellence had cast a shadow over many, and now that misfortune had struck, they were all too eager to kick him.

Roselind retorted with a cold laugh, “Alberta, I heard your precious boy landed in the hospital chasing skirts. Let’s hope he doesn’t end up six feet under courtesy of his escapades. Ah well, such are the travails of the high and mighty, aren’t they?”

“How dare you!” The woman fumed.

“What’s wrong? Even with his legs failing him, my Howard still outshines your son! Word on the street is that the lineage of the Peterson family is at risk, with no cure for your boy’s impotency. The Peterson family may well die out!”

Roselind’s gaze was piercing, her words hitting Alberta right where it hurt.

The inadequacies of the heir of the Peterson family were no secrets to Bayridge City. exacerbated by his penchant for pharmaceutical escapades that often ended in a public scandal

Undeterred, Alberta shot back. “Howard is no different, is he? We’ll find Mr. White eventually. Don’t come crawling to me then!”

“Stop kidding! Howard is blessed. For all you know, Mr. White himself might come knocking to

treat him!”

When it came to high society sparring, Roselind was in a league of her own.

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“Don’t forget the Peterson family still holds prime real estate. Let’s see how Howard smooths things over with the Chadwick Group and Summit Corp’s venture!”

Her face was a mask of resentment. Alberta clutched her purse tightly and stormed off.

The mention of the Summit Corp project cast a shadow over Gwendolyn.

Roselind, regaining her composure, pointed to the top shelf behind the glass counter. “Show me that sapphire necklace.”

The sales associate, gloved in white, carefully presented the jewelry box, complimenting. “Your have exquisite taste.” This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

Gwendolyn swam her head at the sight of the astronomical price. Before she could protest. Roselind had already clasped the necklace around her neck.

The teardrop sapphire pendant made Gwendolyn’s complexion glow, the opulent lights of the store adding a halo around her.

“It suits you perfectly,” Roselind admired.

Gwendolyn shook her head, biting her lip earnestly, “I should decline such a generous gift. You’ve already given me so much, I can’t accept this necklace.”

“Well, if you insist…”

Roselind looked at her regretfully and returned the necklace to its case.

Seizing the moment, Gwendolyn voiced her curiosity, “Who is this Mr. White everyone’s after?”

Roselind took her by the wrist, speaking as they walked, “Mr. White is a master of modern medicine, his acupuncture is legendary, known to cure the incurable. But he retired at sixty and now his whereabouts are a mystery. There’s talk he took on an apprentice.”

If they couldn’t find Enoch himself, his apprentice would be the next best thing.

Wealthy folk valued their health above all. Befriending a renowned healer was like having an ace up one’s sleeve.

Gwendolyn nodded in understanding.

Her neighbor back home, Mr. White, was also a master of acupuncture, and she had learned some techniques from him. For a fleeting moment, she entertained a ludicrous thought. But it was quickly dismissed.

Mr. White wasn’t named Enoch White. So they couldn’t be the same person. What would a celebrated healer be doing in the country?

“Just need to find Enoch, and Howard’s…” Roselind’s words trailed off as her phone vibrated. She released Gwendolyn’s hand to answer.

“Hello?”

Whatever was said on the other end, Gwendolyn observed Roselind’s changing expression, her

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face turning ashen.

“Tell that scoundrel to walt! I’m on my way!”