The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 283

Emily was about to hurl another insult, but Daniel grabbed her by the waist. Pulling Rhys with his other hand, he dragged them both back into the private dining room.

"Let go!" she snapped in frustration, stomping her stiletto heel directly onto his leather shoe.

Daniel flinched as pain shot through his foot, but he didn't dare let go, afraid she might lose her balance and twist her ankle.

Only when Emily was steady on her feet did he casually release his grip and pull out a chair for her.

Emily sat down, crossing her arms as she glared coldly at the two men standing before her.

"Go ahead. Let's hear a decent excuse," she said, lifting her chin. "If I find out you've been strategizing with this scumbag on how to steal that child, Daniel, I'm hiring your biggest rival for our divorce."

Daniel sighed. "What nonsense are you talking about? Am I that kind of person?"

"You can never really know a person's heart," Emily scoffed. "When you men get together, it's never for anything good."

Rhys remained standing by the door. He glanced at Daniel and said, "I'm going to head out."

Emily slammed her hand on the table. "Did I say you could leave? Make things clear before you go! Don't act like I'm bullying a lonely old man!"

Rhys halted, his spine stiffening.

Daniel, who was the same age as Rhys, felt like Emily's insult had hit him too.

But fortunately, he wasn't lonely.

He offered a few soothing words before his expression turned serious. "Emily, he really is my client. But it's not about finding anyone, and it certainly isn't about the child."

Emily gave him a sidelong glance, entirely unconvinced.

Daniel didn't dwell on the issue and threw out a date: "Four years ago, on May seventeenth, he came to my law firm."

Emily frowned, mocking him. "What? To ask for advice on how to get his eighty million back?"

"To draft a will."

Emily froze. She looked at the figure standing by the door, then turned back to Daniel, certain she must have misheard.

"...What will?"

A wealthy man in his early thirties—why on earth would he be writing a will?

"After Clara left, and right before he transferred to the SWAT team, he came to me to draw up a will."

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