CHAPTER 27: CHAPTER 27: DAMIEN LANCASTER SINGS AND TELLS STORIES TO HIS DAUGHTER

As soon as this happened, Rachel Shaw suspected it was Ivy Summers’ doing.

Ivy Summers had always held a grudge over past events, and after today’s conflict at the Lancaster Family, it was hard for Rachel not to suspect her.

But then again, she felt Ivy Summers didn’t have the time, after all, she had been watching her at the Lancaster Family’s place.

At that moment, hearing Phillip Shaw mention who Damien Lancaster wanted to protect, Rachel Shaw immediately thought of Ivy Summers.

"That bitch, I knew it was her." Rachel Shaw gritted her teeth.

Phillip Shaw squinted his eyes slightly, "Now that Ivy Summers is back and Damien Lancaster hasn’t divorced her yet, what’s your plan?"

"I..." For five years, Rachel Shaw hadn’t married Damien Lancaster, she hadn’t even been near Damien Lancaster’s bed, and the Shaw Family was putting a lot of pressure on her.

"Dad, I will get rid of Ivy Summers, the stumbling block, since they are not actively divorcing, I’ll make Damien fed up with her so he has to divorce."

Hearing Rachel Shaw’s words, Phillip Shaw nodded approvingly, "Having a goal, that’s my daughter from the Shaw Family."

Rachel Shaw’s eyes narrowed viciously.

Ivy Summers, just wait and see, I won’t let you have it easy.

...

Damien Lancaster instructed Julian Jacobs to prepare ten million as compensation for Rachel Shaw’s damaged reputation and also had people remove the trending topic and delete videos online.

After dealing with all this, Damien Lancaster originally planned to return to his seaside villa, but remembering Sophie was still at the old house, he had the car driven there instead.

Upon entering the old house and going upstairs, when Damien Lancaster passed by Sophie’s room, he heard small noises coming from inside.

Damien Lancaster stepped back, pushed open the ajar door, and saw a small mound under the covers on the little bed.

Sophie was entirely hidden under the blanket, with light shining through it.

Getting closer, Damien Lancaster could hear the little one speaking in a cute, childish voice.

"Mommy, tell another story, Sophie still wants to listen, still wants to listen."

"Sophie wants to hear Snow White, can Mommy tell Snow White?"

"Hmm... forget it, don’t want to hear Snow White anymore, let’s switch to Rapunzel... Sophie likes Rapunzel..."

In fact, Sophie’s voice was very soft, so Damien Lancaster couldn’t clearly understand what she was saying, he could only see the light and hear the faint sounds.

"Sophie, are you not going to sleep?"

Damien Lancaster’s voice suddenly rang out.

Sophie abruptly fell silent, the light dimmed, and the small mound shrunk down.

Damien Lancaster turned on the night lamp, quietly watched for a while, and asked, "Asleep?"

The person under the blanket responded crisply, "Asleep."

Damien Lancaster’s lips curled upward but then pressed them down.

"Since you’re asleep, stop talking."

"Okay."

After a while, Sophie heard a "click" sound at the door, as if the door had closed.

Sophie wriggled under the blanket, then pulled it back and peeked her little head out, sneakily observing, and then her eyes met Damien Lancaster’s directly.

Sophie was startled, her big eyes blinked, and she gave Damien Lancaster an awkward grin.

Damien Lancaster glanced at his watch, raised an eyebrow, "It’s midnight, weren’t you sleepy by eight?"

Sophie puckered her small lips, cupped her little cheeks, "Before, Mommy used to hold Sophie to sleep."

"So?"

"Without Mommy to hold, Sophie can’t sleep today."

"I can get an auntie for you."

"When you can’t sleep, do you find an auntie to hold you?"

Damien Lancaster’s lips twitched.

What kind of question was this little girl asking.

"Then what do you want to do?"

"Uncle, can you sing to Sophie?"

Sophie’s big eyes were blinking as she looked at Damien Lancaster with great anticipation.

Damien Lancaster originally wanted to refuse.

He didn’t know how to sing at all.

But seeing the little girl’s expectant face, those words of refusal stuck in his throat.

"What do you want to hear?"

"Little White Rabbit."

"Don’t know it."

"Little Second Lang."

"Don’t know it."

"Then... how about Little Squirrel?"

"Don’t know it."

Sophie was open-mouthed, her face showing disbelief, as if saying, how could anyone not even know the Little Squirrel song.

"One two three four five, going up the mountain to fight the tiger, didn’t catch the tiger, caught a little squirrel, you can’t even sing this? Didn’t you go to kindergarten?"

Damien Lancaster had never heard of songs like Little White Rabbit or Little Squirrel.

Sophie lay down deflated, muttering with her little mouth, "No wonder Mommy doesn’t want you, sheesh, can’t do anything."

Seeing the little girl unhappy, Damien Lancaster was losing patience and was about to leave but stopped at the door.

It was midnight; a four or five-year-old should really be asleep by now.

Fearing she might be sleepless all night, Damien Lancaster softened up, pulled out his phone, and searched for those songs she mentioned, slowly walking back, pulling up a chair to sit.

"I’ll sing for you, but you have to tell me your mom’s name, okay?"

Damien Lancaster spoke as if negotiating with clients in the conference room.

But Sophie’s eyes lit up, "Really, uncle will sing to Sophie if I just tell you Mommy’s name?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, okay."

The little girl agreed readily, lying back on the bed, closing her eyes, "Uncle can sing now, and when Sophie wakes up, Sophie will tell Uncle tomorrow."

Damien Lancaster saw how readily the little girl agreed and wondered what her little mind was planning now.

Looking at the childish lyrics on his phone, Damien Lancaster frowned tightly.

After preparing for a while, he started to sing a few lines, half-familiar and half-strange.

"Little Second Lang, carrying that backpack to school..."

Damien Lancaster’s voice was deep and magnetic, those childish nursery rhymes, though off-key, sounded particularly pleasant coming from him.

Sophie was indeed tired, and she fell asleep soon after.

Damien Lancaster turned his head to look at the sleeping little one, turned off his phone, and tucked her in tighter, raising the air conditioning temperature a few degrees.

Looking at Sophie, Damien Lancaster couldn’t help but think of the child from years ago.

Back then, Damien Lancaster longed to have a daughter.

Daughters are good, well-behaved, and sensible, a sweet little cotton jacket.

Thinking further, having a daughter who looks like Ivy Summers, the three of them going out together would be quite nice.

He hoped all this wasn’t wishful thinking and that Sophie truly was his daughter.

Damien Lancaster turned to make a phone call on this note.

An hour later, several doctors quietly entered Sophie’s room, took a few strands of hair from her, and left silently.

They then approached Damien Lancaster, "Mr. Lancaster, we’ve collected it."

Damien Lancaster stood by the window, slowly smoking, exhaling the smoke coldly, "Get me an answer as soon as possible."