Prosperous Marriage: Married to My Brother-in-law-Chapter 628_1

"Julia, is the baby okay?" Rachel Bailey, slowed by her pregnancy, was the last to leave the building while everyone else hurried downstairs. Seeing her emerge from the hotel, Hansen Ruiz quickly came forward to support her, speaking in a gentle and soft tone, "Be careful. Don't worry, everything's okay."

Julia hugged little Ivan, her own heart pounding in her chest.

Fortunately, Glades Horne was prepared. Had he not been, if Pheobe Rogers had managed to take the real child, what would have become of the baby at this moment? And, what if Glades's guess had been wrong, what then?

Hearing her friend's concerned question, she quickly answered, "It's fine, heaven bless my son."

The media did not stop taking pictures, and they quickly understood the cause of the incident. What they were most curious about was why little Ivan was completely unharmed.

"Only a month old, and what nerve he has—falling from such a height and coming out without a scratch, without even a scare."

"The young master surely has great fortune; he must be destined to be an extraordinary figure among men."

"Yes, absolutely."

All sorts of speculations and discussions arose.

As for Pheobe Rogers's fate, everyone thought she got what she deserved.

Some high-society women used Pheobe Rogers as a cautionary tale, admonishing their own men.

See, this is the disaster that infidelity brings.

Gian Horne's expression was unspeakably grim, filled with self-reproach. Other people's comments felt like slaps across his face. The situation today was of his own making. If he had not been unfaithful, Pheobe Rogers would not have seized the opportunity, and his philandering would not have harmed the two women who loved him, nor his children.

He looked towards his eldest son Glades Horne, who happened to look back at the same moment. Father and son's eyes met—Glades's gaze was icily distant, whereas Gian's eyes were filled with regret. Glades looked at him only briefly before turning away, holding Julia Bluen, who cradled the young child in her arms, as they returned to the hotel.

The police began taking statements, and people were cooperating. With so many individuals on site, anyone could provide testimony.

Gian then turned to look at James Horne, who still stood rigidly in place. Seeing James's hands clenched into fists, he knew that his younger son was the most heartbroken and troubled of all.

With unsteady steps that seemed to age him by a decade, Gian approached James and softly called out, "James."

James Horne opened his tearful eyes and swiftly unclenched his fists, hurriedly wiping away his tears before turning his head and walking away into the hotel, ignoring Gian.

Despite the unpleasant atmosphere, the celebration for the baby's first full month was not yet over.

Gian stood frozen in place.

My youngest son is unforgiving towards me.

Looking at other family members, they too wouldn't meet his gaze and headed straight into the hotel.

Even the guests gave him a strange look before leaving.

Inside the hotel, Benjamin Robinson called both Glades Horne and Hansen Ruiz into a lounge. He leaned against the door, his stern face paired with those piercing, discerning eyes, silently observing Glades and Hansen whom he had summoned.

Glades stood erect, his expression both serious and detached.

Hansen, on the other hand, was leisurely sipping on a cocktail. His well-featured face, showing warmth, seemed not to be bothered by Benjamin's sternness.

Benjamin's sharp gaze swept back and forth between the two men.

Finally, he asked in a deep voice, "This act, Glades, was it all your doing?"

As a detective squad leader, his acuteness was particularly sharp.

The chaos earlier had prevented him from noticing anything amiss, but now that things had calmed, he sensed something was off. A one-month-old baby thrown from the eighteenth floor, yet completely unharmed. True, preparations were made below to catch him—sheets and blankets elastic enough to prevent a fatal fall. But a child only a month old... even if physically uninjured, wouldn't he be terrified? Yet, little Ivan is perfectly fine, showing no signs of shock. Right now, Julia's holding him; he's eaten and gone back to sleep.

Glades pressed his lips together, remaining silent.

"What act? What did Glades plan? Was it a good show? Why didn't you include me in the audience?" Glades didn't respond, but Hansen did. He paused his drinking, looking curiously at Benjamin and pretending to be completely clueless.

Benjamin snorted coldly. Still trying to pretend in front of me!

"Glades."

Glades took a step forward, his sturdy frame moving in front of Benjamin. He reached out with a large hand and pulled Benjamin from leaning against the door to stand behind him. Then, Glades opened the lounge door and, as he made to leave, his chilling voice reached back to Benjamin, "I don't have the leisure to act in plays. What you saw is the truth."

Benjamin was too straightforward and just; Glades knew that if Benjamin found out he had plotted a conspiracy, forcing Pheobe Rogers onto a criminal path, Benjamin would be unforgiving towards him.

"So you're saying, your son really is blessed with great fortune?"

Benjamin, still skeptical, followed Glades out.

Glades suddenly turned, his handsome face now veiled with frost, his gaze sharp and cold as ice. Cold. Implacably cold.

"Benjamin, do you believe my son shouldn't be blessed with great fortune?"

Benjamin was momentarily stunned, realizing there was something wrong with his words. A flicker of apology crossed his stern face, and he quickly said, "Glades, you know, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I just find it… very strange."

"You saw it with your own eyes. If you don't trust them, you might as well dig them out. Ruiz, send over a small knife for Captain Wu, so he can use it to gouge out his eyes," Glades said coldly, then turned away once more, no longer acknowledging Benjamin.

Hansen laughed. He leaned in close to Benjamin's face and asked teasingly, "So, Detective Squad Leader, do you need Ruiz to bring you a small knife? I assure you, I will prepare a razor-sharp one for you, guaranteed to allow you to carve out your eyes in one go."

"Drop it, don't mock me here," Benjamin said, his stern face softening into an almost-chuckle as he pushed Hansen away. He then let out a deep sigh, lowering his voice, "Glades remains as proud as ever."