My Husband Is A Gary Stu novel Chapter 1268

Chapter 1268 Unknown Number

Genevieve turned around and gave him an incredulous look. “How would you know what I was worried about if I didn't tell you?”

“I've been your husband for years now. Don't you think there might be something wrong with our relationship if I didn't know what you were worrying about?” he countered wryly, laughing as he toweled her hair.

“Say, do you think Coop can be cured?” she probed.

Armand explained, “I've let the doctors review Cooper's yearly health report, but as for how long the treatment would take, it really depends on the doctor's skills.”

Hearing this, Genevieve instantly knew that there was still hope for Cooper.

She let Armand carry her out of the bathtub, and while she was in his arms, she leaned forward to give him kisses. “Cooper has plenty of money, so go ahead and get him the best specialists to treat him.”

Armand hummed in response. “I want him to have his own family, too, or he'd just keep fussing over you.”

“You know I still have three uncles and a handful of cousins in the Zeigler family who spoil me, right? You'll have a hard time managing your jealousy if you take everything so personally,” she pointed out blithely.

“It's not like you go back to the Zeigler residence that often. I can manage my jealousy just fine,” Armand quipped.

He set her down in front of the vanity and took out a hairdryer from one of the drawers. Just as he was about to blow dry her hair, his phone rang.

It was his personal phone, and only less than a handful of people knew the number of it.

Worried that there might be an emergency, he hurried to the nightstand and picked up the phone.

However, he was surprised to find that it was a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

It took a while for the person on the other line to speak. It was a low, gravelly male voice. “Armand, let's make a deal.”

Genevieve was toweling her hair. She saw Armand answer his phone, but she found it odd that he was remaining silent and letting the caller do all the talking.

After a while, Armand hummed curtly in response, then hung up.

Through the mirror, Genevieve watched him as he approached the vanity. His expression looked grim. “Who was it, Mando?” she asked.

“Someone from work.” The sullen look on his face vanished in an instant. He then plugged in the hairdryer and gently blow-dried Genevieve's damp locks.

Seeing that he did not want to make her worry, she dropped the matter and did not press him any further.

When he was done blow-drying her hair, he applied a small amount of serum on the ends of it. Then, he waited until she had settled into bed before heading into the walk-in closet.

“I need to head out for a bit, so don't wait up for me,” he said as he walked over to her side of the bed and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

Genevieve asked, “What time will you be home?”

Armand left the night light by the headboard on but turned off the rest of the lights in the bedroom. “A few hours. I'll have breakfast ready for you when you wake up tomorrow.”

He went to the first floor, and a moment of thought later, he pulled out his phone to call Cooper.

Meanwhile, Cooper was annoyed when he saw Armand's name flashing on his phone screen. Picking up the call, he said, “You know we're staying in the guest room to the left, don't you? Why can't you just knock?”

Armand explained that he wanted Sally to go somewhere with him for a bit, so Cooper assumed it was for business.

Steven had been in Baykeep all this time and had yet to return.

Sally did not ask for details, either, only put on a change of clothes and left Swallow Garden with Armand. Before long, the car pulled away from the mansion and drove into the night.

At five o'clock in the morning, just as dawn began to break, a Maybach slowly rolled up to the alleyway behind an orphanage.

Standing at the back doorstep of the orphanage was a woman with black-framed glasses. She had her hands in the pockets of her long suede coat to keep warm in the weather.

When she saw the Maybach pull up at the door, she hurried down the steps.

Armand came out of the backseat of the car, then reached behind him to grab an intricately woven baby basket.

“Mr. Faulkner,” greeted the woman in the long suede coat.

Armand nodded at her in acknowledgment, then handed her the basket.

She took it, and he proceeded to hand her a card. “This child will be under your care from now on. The money in this bank card is a donation from the child's father to the orphanage and includes the child's daily expenses as well.”

“I understand.” The woman, who happened to be the director of the orphanage, took the card. She could not resist asking, “When will her father come to pick her up?”

Armand's gaze darkened as he replied curtly, “Her father passed away. I think it's best if you let her grow up here instead of letting her go into foster care.”

At once, the woman knew what Armand was trying to tell her. This child was an orphan.