CHAPTER 27: CHAPTER 27: A REWARD FROM BLAKE SINCLAIR?

"I’ve heard that some heiresses privately discuss how they’d be willing to die just for a glance from President Sinclair."

"And there’s talk about someone spending a seven-figure sum just to get your contact information."

Holly Crowe simply put down her spoon, rested her chin on one hand, and rolled her eyes. She leaned forward.

"Moreover, I heard some time ago that a well-known heiress gifted you a royal watch, which you accepted and sent a letter in return to express gratitude."

"And..."

Blake Sinclair looked at the person before him, his eyes bright, and as the conversation went on, his fingers waved in the air a few times, portraying an expressive and lively demeanor with an inexplicable charm.

Blake Sinclair suddenly went blank, memories overlapping at that moment, like the chatter of the little girl who used to lean on the table corner returned.

Holly Crowe was talking and finally noticed that something seemed off.

It seemed, perhaps, she might have been a bit presumptuous...

Holly Crowe bit her tongue, gave a sheepish smile, and started to backtrack, "Actually... I don’t believe those rumors... Everyone knows well about your character, President Sinclair..."

The atmosphere grew silent.

Blake Sinclair looked at her and said seriously, "There wasn’t a seven-figure sum, I gave the contact info, didn’t accept the watch, and didn’t send a letter."

"Ah?"

"The Sinclair Family has three hundred and twenty-one family rules, none of which state ’the requirements for a wife must match the family’s status,’ nor do they say ’entering the Sinclair Family requires kneeling for three days and three nights in the ancestral hall.’

As he spoke more, Blake Sinclair’s expression slightly changed, seeming to think it was all somewhat ridiculous.

Holly Crowe chuckled dryly, "So the outside world is really exaggerating."

Blake Sinclair in a serious tone, "It’s all exaggerated rhetoric, I’m just a regular person."

Holly Crowe was a bit amused by him, "President Sinclair is this a self-defense?"

"Mm!" Blake Sinclair stared at her eyes, "Don’t want to be misunderstood."

The door of the private room was knocked, and a waiter pushed a cart inside.

Another bowl of soup.

Holly Crowe frowned and looked at Blake Sinclair.

He lifted the lid, "It’s porcini mushrooms and ribs, no Chinese herbs, not bitter, want to try?"

Holly Crowe looked skeptical.

Blake Sinclair chuckled, "Didn’t you say, the Sinclair Family never tells lies?"

Holly Crowe, teased by him, felt the embarrassment she had forgotten earlier surge up again, and she took a big sip of water.

The aroma of the soup filled the air, Holly Crowe tentatively scooped a small spoonful, tasted slightly sweet.

She raised her brow and took another sip.

Blake Sinclair observed her expression fully, and served himself a bowl too.

By the end of the meal, it was already one in the afternoon.

When it was time to pay, Holly Crowe was about to settle the bill but was told it had already been charged to Blake Sinclair’s account.

"I said I would treat," she protested quietly.

Blake Sinclair seemed relaxed, casually helped her open the door, "The store automatically charged it, next time you can treat me to lobster."

Again with the next time...

Holly Crowe had no choice but to nod and let it go.

The Maybach smoothly traveled along the road.

Holly Crowe sat in the passenger seat texting Celia Stiles, not paying attention to the direction the car was taking.

It wasn’t until the car gradually stopped that she looked up, only to see the familiar cream-colored English letters of PADA instead of the Lunar Lotus Studio sign.

"Where is this...?"

"Wait for me a moment." Blake Sinclair left this sentence, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car.

After a short while, he got into the car carrying two bags.

Holly Crowe smelled a faint scent of cream.

He placed one of the bags on the back seat, and handed the other to her.

Holly Crowe’s hand paused in mid-air, unsure whether to accept it or not, "President Sinclair, what is this..."

Blake Sinclair gently placed the cake on her lap, making Holly Crowe have to hold it to prevent it from falling.

He fastened his seatbelt, speaking in a calm tone, yet his gaze fell on her slightly reddened ear tips: "Before leaving home, I promised Shirley to buy her some dessert."

Holly Crowe nodded, "Oh, then this..."

"This," Blake Sinclair turned to look at her, "is a reward for another little girl."

"..."

Holly Crowe looked up, meeting his smiling eyes.

Blake Sinclair laughed and added, "She spoke the truth today, bravely expressing her thoughts."

Holly Crowe instinctively tightened the edges of the paper bag, her ears turning even redder.

Blake Sinclair started the car, speaking casually, "Pudding, the shop assistant said it was a new item today."

More pudding.

He actually remembered!

"Thank you." Holly Crowe whispered her thanks, so softly it seemed only she could hear.

Yet moments later, she heard an "Mm" sound from the driver’s seat.

A simple word.

She inexplicably felt the cake in her hands was a bit hot.

The car slowly drove away, reaching the Lunar Lotus Studio entrance as Blake Sinclair answered a call and left.

Holly Crowe stood in place, watching the Maybach gradually disappear around the corner, only when the taillights were completely out of sight did she carry the cake into the store.

.....

Noralis Villa.

Sinclair Manor.

Little Sinclair finished her bath and sat on the wool carpet in the living room, drawing on the table while chatting with Laurel Sinclair.

She paused halfway, setting down the watercolor pen, "Mom, Uncle Irving asked me today if I wanted to find myself a dad."

Laurel Sinclair didn’t lift her eyes from her phone, her fingers sliding through short videos on the screen: "How did you respond?"

Little Sinclair turned to the sofa: "I told Uncle Irving to forget it!"

She mimicked an adult’s tone with her childish voice, "Mom said she won’t date her friend’s younger brother, nor someone younger than her."

"Hah!" Laurel Sinclair finally lifted her head from her phone, her brows arching, "That’s my daughter, come over here for a kiss."

"Coming."

Little Sinclair immediately climbed up, threw herself at Laurel Sinclair, and gave her a big smooch on the cheek, "Mom you look so beautiful today."

"Really?" Laurel Sinclair touched her face, even the video she was watching of abs was forgotten,

Little Sinclair nodded earnestly, full of sincerity, "More beautiful than any of those guys showing off their abs in the video."

Laurel Sinclair was overjoyed, tossed her phone aside, and cuddled Sinclair, giving her several kisses, "Daughters are the best!"

Sinclair seized the chance to hug her neck, blinking her big eyes and sweetened her pitch: "And my beautiful mom, it’s Friday tomorrow, can I have PADA?"

"How’s your performance been this week?"

"Teacher Amy gave me a small red flower as a reward, today she even made me the class leader for a day." Little Sinclair proudly patted her chest.

"Alright! Tomorrow mom will go and buy it for you."

"Thanks mom, then don’t forget, okay?"

Laurel Sinclair gave a casual wave of her hand, "Don’t worry."

Little Sinclair watched as her mom got absorbed back into her phone, and sighed like a little adult, feeling it was unreliable.

She propped her chubby chin and thought for a while, should she still mention it to her uncle and ask for Crowe’s contact information?

Just as she was thinking, she heard the sound of the door opening.

Blake Sinclair walked in.

Sinclair’s eyes lit up, she slipped on her little shoes and ran ’tap tap tap’ to the door.

Just as she stood still, she saw Blake Sinclair carrying a PADA bag.

She jumped up excitedly, "Uncle, uncle, you’re the best! How did you know I wanted PADA!"

Little Sinclair circled around Blake Sinclair several times, rattling off every compliment she’d learned: "Uncle, tall! Handsome! Smart! Amazing! Awesome!"

"That’s enough!" Hearing the last two words, Blake Sinclair promptly interrupted.

He looked down at his niece, her big eyes shining adorably, and glanced at his sister lying on the sofa.

"Only brought one, don’t overeat, and remember to brush your teeth afterward."

"Okay, uncle, thank you, uncle."

Little Sinclair obediently took the bag, carefully carried the cake to the dining room, and opened it to see the Pudding inside, her mouth curling up, "Uncle, why didn’t you buy my favorite canelé?"