CHAPTER 569: CHAPTER 569: DADDY, WE CAN’T FIND MOMMY

"Brother."

Ian Keane exclaimed in surprise, seeing Timmy Monroe with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t understand why their grandmother was so harsh on his little brother.

"You first insulted my mommy, you’re ill-mannered." Timmy Monroe’s fair little face quickly swelled up, but he didn’t care. He lunged at the Keane matriarch, swinging his small fists at her, "Give my mommy back, give her back, you evil old woman."

Timmy’s small fists weren’t light, and the Keane matriarch took a few punches, her face contorting with pain. Furious, she grabbed Timmy’s collar and flung him aside, "You’re just a wild child, daring to be so rude to your elders. The Kane family will never acknowledge you. When you grow up, don’t expect a single cent from Kane Group."

Everything belongs to Ian. A wild, uncultured child like Timmy Monroe doesn’t deserve to have anything.

When Timmy fell, Ian Keane rushed to catch him. But being just children, both of them ended up tumbling to the ground, with Ian getting the worst of it.

The Keane matriarch was both pained and furious to see Ian fall. Pained that her precious grandson got hurt, but furious that Ian would do this for Timmy Monroe.

"Who cares about Kane Group’s assets?" Timmy cried, pulling something from his pocket, something given to him by the great matriarch, and threw it at the Keane matriarch, "Take it all back. I don’t want it. I just want my mommy."

The Keane matriarch caught it and said to the male lawyer, "Did you record what he just said? He gave it up willingly; no one forced him."

The male lawyer raised the camcorder in his hand, "Got it, got it. From now on, those things have nothing to do with him."

Ian Keane helped Timmy Monroe up and glanced coldly at the male lawyer, frightening him so much he nearly dropped the camcorder.

How could a six-year-old have such a gaze? It was as piercing as an adult’s.

"Little brother, whatever I have, you have half, including the little brother or sister in mommy’s belly. Everything belongs equally. We are family, sharing honor and disgrace together."

Ian Keane’s words were meant for both Timmy Monroe and the Keane matriarch.

The Keane matriarch was shocked that Ian would stand by Timmy, the wild child, to such an extent. What kind of spell had Ivana Monroe cast on Ian?

Throughout history, princes fought fiercely for their father’s kingdom, often ending in bloodshed or even death.

But Ian Keane had no such thoughts and valued Timmy Monroe so much that he wanted to share the Kane family’s holdings with him.

The Keane matriarch was so angry it hurt her chest. All her meticulous planning to help Ian was for nothing, as Ian’s kindness meant he handed over what she fought for so easily?

"Ian, you can’t do this." She clutched her wounded heart, speaking sorrowfully.

"He’s my brother, my own."

Ian Keane’s stand was clear, seemingly ignoring the matriarch’s sadness, and after a pause, he asked, "Where is my mommy?"

The Keane matriarch bitterly replied, "Gone. She left you two. If you don’t believe me, ask him. When Ivana Monroe left, she signed divorce papers with your father, so she has a reason to abandon you."

"You’re lying," Timmy Monroe shouted again.

"Believe it or not," the Keane matriarch scoffed, flaring up when Timmy rushed toward her, "Are you all dead? Throw that unruly wild child out, don’t let him dirty the Kane family’s floors."

The maids were afraid of Ivana Monroe, but not of Timmy Monroe, who was only six.

Now, they could take out on this child the hurt that Ivana had caused them.

Don’t blame them for being ruthless; he was, after all, Ivana Monroe’s child, not raised in the Kane family.

The maids moved to grab Timmy Monroe.

"Who dares to touch my brother?"

Ian Keane stood in front of Timmy Monroe, small in stature but exuding a presence reminiscent of Leon Keane, intimidating the maids.

"Throw him out," the Keane matriarch fumed, "Don’t hurt Ian."

The maids were in a dilemma. Young Master Ian protected Timmy so fervently—forcing Timmy out would surely harm Ian.

"No need for you to throw me out—I’ll walk out myself. The air in your house stinks, and it makes me sick." Timmy retorted to the matriarch.

"If it disgusts you, then get out." The Keane matriarch was so furious that she shook with rage.

"Brother."

Ian turned to see Timmy shaking his head at him. The two siblings exchanged glances, understanding each other’s intentions instantly.

Ian gave a slight nod. Timmy wanted to go find their father, so Ian would stay here because neither of them was sure if their mother had been taken away from the Kane family estate. Staying at the estate was best for finding their mother.

Under the supervision of the maids, Timmy Monroe left the Kane family estate. As he left, the maids forcibly took his phone, leaving him without a cent. They watched him with mocking eyes, wondering what he would do next.

The Kane residence was far from President Kane’s villa, making it impossible for Timmy to walk there. Moreover, at just six years old, he wouldn’t know the way. The maids hoped he would get lost or, better yet, be kidnapped.

"Give me back my phone. Give it back, you bad people."

Outside the door, Timmy cried and screamed. The maids sneered, telling him to get lost, never expecting him to roll on the ground, crying and begging for his phone back.

"Truly an uncultured wild child, rolling on such dirty ground to throw a tantrum."

"He was raised outside by Ivana Monroe, unlike Young Master Ian who is noble and polite."

"Go on! Rolling here won’t help, you’ll just have a mouthful of dirt, hahaha..."

The maids’ taunts went back and forth until they lost interest and shut the gate on Timmy Monroe, leaving him outside.

Timmy got up, brushed the dust off himself, his expression back to normal. He ran toward the road; the tantrum he threw earlier was just to lower the maids’ guard.

Suddenly, a red sports car screeched to a halt, and a woman in a beige fur coat got out, "Why are you running? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? Where are your parents?"

"Pretty sister, I lost my mommy. Could you lend me your phone? I want to call my daddy."

Timmy raised his little face, looking pitifully at the woman.

Wow.

What an adorable child, looking as if he stepped out of a comic book. Though his clothes were dirty and his short hair messy, it didn’t detract from his cuteness, making him even more endearing.

"Alright, little cutie, don’t worry, don’t be afraid. I’ll get my phone from the car for you."