The Heiress Spoiled by Four Brothers and One Devilish CEO-Chapter 285 Does this thing even wear diapers?

Chapter 285: Chapter 285 Does this thing even wear diapers?

Megan noticed how excited everyone looked and couldn’t help but feel a bit off about it. With Samuel’s personality, there was just no way he’d magically find a girlfriend tomorrow.

She tested the waters, "Are you guys hiding something from me?"

"No way!"

That came out in perfect sync, which only made Megan raise a brow. "Tsk, definitely not anything good then."

They all sat around the dinner table eating. Stella carefully picked fish bones out for Megan. "Sea fish is packed with high-quality protein. It helps the baby’s eyesight and brain development. Eat more, okay? Mrs. Hall especially went and learned this dish from a top chef."

Megan smiled and turned to thank Mrs. Hall, who was standing off to the side. The older woman beamed. "Happy to cook for you, Miss."

Even though she’d had plenty of seafood back in the Maldives, nothing quite hit like home-cooked food.

She ate until she was stuffed, and it ended with Tristan helping her back to their room.

"Lie down for a bit, I need to make a call," he said.

She laid sideways against the bed, quietly watching him from behind as he stood by the window with the phone to his ear.

Five minutes later, he came back to sit by the bed, smiling. "Mrs. Jones and the others are recovering well. Zeta Prime and Delta12 stayed with them. Once their vitals stabilize, they can return to Dreamscape Manor."

"That’s such great news." Megan’s smile warmed her whole face.

Tristan gave a small nod. "Little one, the rose garden at the manor... it’s all wilted. I’m sorry."

"It’s okay." Megan propped herself up, curling into his arms. "Then can you plant more for me later? Red, white, champagne, pale pink... even black and blue ones, too."

"I will. I’ll plant them myself. We’ll watch each seed sprout together."

He gently laid a hand over her belly, where their baby was already moving. Every word he spoke seemed to be answered by a tiny kick.

He helped her lie back down, then grabbed a storybook off the nightstand and started reading with animation.

Only when the little one settled did Megan drift off to sleep.

Tristan quietly closed the book and slid it back onto the table. He caressed her forehead, planting a gentle kiss. "Good night, my loves."

Then he walked out and headed to Jason’s room, knocking on the door.

Jason looked surprised when he opened it. "It’s late. Shouldn’t you be resting?"

Tristan walked right in, flopping onto the couch with his legs crossed and arms loosely draped along the backrest.

"Can’t sleep?" Jason sat across from him, leaning forward and tapping a cigarette out of the box on the coffee table. He stuck one in his mouth.

"Hand me one too."

Jason gave him a look. "You sure? You should probably take it easy with your health."

Tristan let out a low laugh. "What’s there to hold back? I’ve got barely a month and a half left."

"Don’t be such a downer. We still have Karl," Jason said as he flicked the lighter on and lit Tristan’s cigarette after his own.

Tristan took a deep drag like he was trying to exhale all his pain in smoke. "Karl’s done everything he can. He’s already sacrificed so much... I don’t want to keep dragging him into this."

"But he’s already gone that far," Jason said, watching Tristan’s pale face through the thin wisp of smoke. "Don’t you think you owe it to him to see this through? Just trust him. Wait until he’s back."Tristan quietly took a drag from his cigarette. Deep down, of course he wanted to get better. But the sorcery worm inside him was like a ticking bomb—could go off any second and take him away from this world. A world he didn’t want to leave, because Megan was in it.

Maybe it’d happen while they were eating dinner, or watching some random TV show, or doing baby prep, hell, even while he was dreaming.

He used to be okay with dying. Even when he first fell for Megan back in the day, he told himself it wasn’t a big deal. But once you have something that precious, it’s just impossible to let go. He clung to life now, just because she was in it.

A subtle smile tugged at his lips. "I’ll hang in there. I’ll try."

Jason’s voice was low, tinged with emotion. "I didn’t really like you at first, you know."

Tristan shot him a look. "And now I’m your favorite?"

Jason smirked—that clean, handsome face lighting up like a glass of fresh water. "Let’s just say, for Megan’s sake, I’ve learned to tolerate you. But man, the ego on you... arrogant as hell."

Tristan chuckled. "Well, I’ve got the goods to back it up."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Full of yourself. But tell you what, the day you kick the bucket? I’ll make it my mission to find Megan a new guy—someone a hundred times better than you."

Tristan cracked up. "That’s a tall order. Guys like me don’t exactly grow on trees. Doubt she’d even glance at anyone else."

Jason burst out laughing too. "Exactly. So don’t make her a widow, got it? You better fight through this."

Tristan gave a quiet hum of agreement. "So, what’s your plan with Wendy?"

"She’s done enough damage. She needs to face the law," Jason answered, brushing the ash off his cigarette. "Once tomorrow’s over, I’ll have her turned in."

"Why wait till then?" Tristan’s eyes narrowed. "You guys cooking something up?"

Jason’s lips curved into something unreadable as he stomped out the cig. "Tomorrow’s kind of a special day."

"Has to do with Samuel’s chances of quitting the singles club?"

Jason gave a dry laugh. "Yeah... not likely."

The two men busted out laughing again, the mood lighter for just a second.

Across the house, in a dim room, Samuel was pumping air into balloons. He cast a sideways glance at Oliver, who was blowing them up too.

"Bro, you serious? Half an hour and barely over ten balloons? Just quit already and go fill the candy boxes or something."

Oliver shot him a look. "This kind of stuff should be left to Mrs. Hall and the staff. I’ve never been good at this."

"It’s a one-time thing. Won’t get another chance."

Oliver rubbed his forehead. "Fine. But zip it. I don’t have the energy to deal with you yapping."

Samuel pouted. "Alright, alright. No talking."

Right then, the parrot chirped up, mimicking his words perfectly: "Bro, you serious? Half an hour and barely over ten balloons? Just quit already and go fill the candy boxes or something."

Oliver groaned. "...Samuel, your bird’s getting roasted tonight."

The parrot flapped around dramatically, shrieking, "Nooo! I’m still a young girl!"

Oliver’s brow twitched. "I swear I’ll wring its neck. What the hell have you been letting it watch?"

Samuel looked helpless. "Don’t look at me. Ask Zeta Prime. That bird’s been with it the past few weeks."

"Wait, Zeta Prime’s not back yet?"

Samuel shrugged. "Nah, they messaged me. Tristan set it up with a girlfriend. Probably too busy playing house to come back."

"It’s not showing up tomorrow either?" Oliver asked, voice tightening. "Tomorrow’s huge."

"Maybe it’ll make it. Don’t bet on it though. Our guy’s totally distracted by love."

The parrot repeated his last sentence again and again, voice rising in pitch.

Fed up, Oliver reached out to grab it—too late. Something white splatted right onto his crisp white shirt.

He stood there, fuming. "Seriously...? Are you kidding me? Does this thing even wear diapers?"