Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 502

This battle wasn't impossible to fight, but the cost would be far too high.

Quentin's foundation in the country wasn't entirely stable yet.

He had spent so much effort transferring his overseas assets back, and Xavier was still deliberately stalling the approvals.

If he engaged in a scorched-earth war with The York Family now, the outcome would be completely unpredictable. And throughout the entire ordeal, she would be pregnant, helpless, and anxious. She might even become The York Family's ultimate leverage against him.

It couldn't happen like this.

Madeline took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve.

She walked into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it slowly.

She arranged her expression, making absolutely sure no trace of her emotional breakdown lingered, before stepping out of the hallway.

The door to the study was slightly ajar. Quentin was sitting on the edge of the sofa bed with his laptop open, reading through an English document on the screen.

Hearing her approach, he lifted his eyes. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment. "Who was on the phone?"

"Just a telemarketer." Madeline leaned casually against the doorframe.

Her tone was completely nonchalant. "They were asking if I wanted to sign up for a credit card."

Quentin stared at her for two seconds, a flicker of scrutiny in his eyes, but ultimately decided not to press the issue.

He shut his laptop, stood up, and walked over to her, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her shoulder.

His fingers combed through her hair, the pads of his fingers brushing lightly against her ear in a gesture of habitual tenderness.

"Why are your eyes red?"

"I just washed my face, and some water got in my eyes." Madeline turned her head slightly, avoiding his intense gaze.

"What's for dinner?"

Quentin didn't push further. He just used his thumb to wipe away a faint trace of moisture near her eye, his voice softening. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Anything's fine."

"Then I'll make your favorites. Sweet and sour ribs, steamed grouper, and a tomato egg soup."

"Sounds good."

Quentin turned toward the kitchen, taking two steps before glancing back at her.

Madeline was standing in the shadowy light of the study doorway. She looked a little pale, but there was a faint, indecipherable smile playing on her lips.

"Madeline."

"Hmm?"

"Is something... on your mind?"

Madeline shook her head, her smile widening just a fraction. There was a profound softness in her eyes that he couldn't quite read. "No. I was just thinking that the ribs you make tonight are going to be really delicious."

Quentin raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of her answer, but he didn't interrogate her.

He walked into the kitchen, tied on his apron, and pulled a rack of ribs from the fridge to prep.

Madeline stayed where she was, listening to the rush of water from the faucet and the rhythmic thud of the knife hitting the cutting board. Her hand unconsciously drifted back down to rest on her stomach.

In her heart, she silently spoke to the two tiny lives just beginning to form: *Just give Mommy a little more time.*