My Child and I Married a Billionaire novel Chapter 136

Chapter 136: Chapter 136: If You Don’t Want to Sleep With Me, Who Do You Want to Sleep With?

"Don’t act like I demanded she cook for me to show her devotion. She was the one who insisted on making a show of it. And even if I had demanded it, so what? Would that have been so unreasonable?"

What was supposed to be a nice meal had been ruined from the moment his mother deliberately invited Gwen Morgan. Damien knew it instantly.

He was never afraid of his mother ignoring him, but he despised it when she used her maternal status as a pretense for these sudden shows of "concern."

She never asked for his opinion or considered his feelings, acting as if giving birth to him was the greatest gift she could bestow. He found it utterly laughable.

"This is a dinner table, not a debate stage. Grandpa and the kids are here. Mom, I don’t want to discuss this with you."

"If you like the food, eat it. If you don’t, I can have someone make you something else to your liking, or we can order takeout. It’s up to you. Do as you please."

Mrs. Vaughn was speechless.

After he spoke, Damien acted as if nothing had happened and calmly placed another bite of food in Cecelia Archer’s mouth.

Seeing the tense atmosphere and that the welcome-home dinner was about to completely fall apart, the Old Master stepped in to take charge.

"That’s enough. Everyone, less talk and more eating."

"Jessica, you’ve always been a reasonable person. Your daughter-in-law went to the trouble of doing this for you. Whether you like the food or not, show her some respect and eat a little. I’m an old man; I don’t have many days left. Please, for my sake, let’s just have a peaceful meal."

Out of respect for the Old Master, Jessica Bell reluctantly picked up her chopsticks again.

The meatballs were mediocre. She forced one down but couldn’t manage another.

Ms. King saw her staring at the spread, looking unsure of what to try next, and quickly made a well-intentioned suggestion.

"Madam, you should try the fried rice. The Young Madam peeled eleven pounds of fresh shrimp just to make it."

Mrs. Vaughn expressionlessly scooped up a spoonful of the Emperor’s Fried Rice. It, too, was nothing special.

"What a waste of all that shrimp. I really can’t stomach it. You all can have it."

’No wonder her hands are so swollen. She peeled eleven pounds of shrimp, and this is the thanks she gets?’

Damien Vaughn pulled Cecelia Archer closer and moved the fried rice in front of himself.

He tried a bite. "I think it’s quite good. If you won’t eat it, we will."

Mrs. Vaughn was speechless again.

’I’ve never seen a son be so stupid!’

’Arguing with his own mother at every turn, right in front of the aunts... That little vixen has completely addled his brain!’

"I’m a bit tired. You all take your time. I’m going upstairs to rest."

Mrs. Vaughn pushed her bowl aside and excused herself from the table. ’If she’s not eating, what’s the point of me staying here?’

Gwen Morgan quickly followed her. "I’m full, too. Please, everyone, take your time. I’ll go keep Ms. Bell company."

Back in the upstairs room, Mrs. Vaughn walked out onto the balcony without saying a word.

Although she remained silent, one look at her lonely, forlorn figure was enough to guess her mood. Feeling a pang of sympathy, Gwen Morgan walked to her side and began to comfort her in a soft voice.

"Damien was only twenty-three when he came back to the country by himself. He was so young, running the company all alone, even expanding into several new sectors. We can’t possibly imagine the pressure and loneliness he must have endured. We weren’t there to help him during his hardest times, yet now that he’s sorted everything out, we suddenly show up and start criticizing everything he does. Auntie, be honest—if you were in his shoes, would you react any better?"

"He’s human. He’s a young, passionate man. If he could just calmly accept anyone’s criticism without reacting at all, would he even be your son?"

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