The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 144

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144 Chapter 144 Heart Made of Jerry

144 Chapter 144 Heart Made of Jerry

Donovan spun around, his face twisted with irritation. “Mr. Aarav, Miss Callum turned you down. Why are you taking it out on me?” 1

Vincent shot the kid a sharp look, his patience wearing thin. “Those cheese sticks didn’t magically appear, you know.”

“If you’re so brave, why don’t you ask her yourself?” Donovan fired back.

Vincent dropped onto the couch beside him and gave Donovan’s ear a playful tug. “You’re way too young to be mouthing off to grown- ups. Is this what your lawyer dad’s been teaching you? Turning you into a little smart–mouth?”

Donovan didn’t actually hurt, but he put on a show anyway, yelping dramatically before poking his tongue out.

“Wasn’t Dad. It was you, Mr. Aarav.”

Vincent released the kid’s ear and cupped his face, putting on his most intimidating expression. “Listen here, kiddo–I don’t back down

from women. Unlike you, running scared from little Camila.”

Donovan puffed up defensively. “Camila’s basically a boy anyway. Nothing girly about her.”

Vincent let go and slouched back, eyes drifting shut with lazy amusement. “Excuses, excuses. Just own up to it instead of making up

stories.”

That did it. Donovan burst into tears.

Vincent bolted upright, hands flailing uselessly as he tried to figure out damage control.

The crying only got louder. Vincent threw up his hands in defeat. “Keep that up and I’ll get Camila over here to deal with you.”

Instant silence. Donovan whipped around, glaring daggers at him. “I’m telling Dad on you.”

A smooth, familiar voice cut through the tension from behind them. “What’s all this about?”

Donovan’s face lit up like Christmas morning. He launched himself off the couch. “Dad! You’re home?”

Noelle Austin crossed the room and swept his son into his arms. “What happened? Did Mr. Aarav get under your skin again?”

Before Donovan could answer, Vincent jumped in. “Your kid’s got zero shame, just like his old man.”

Noelle didn’t take the bait. He chuckled softly, settling onto the couch with Donovan still in his arms, and fixed Vincent with an amused

look. “Funny, I think he gets that from you.”

The dig landed exactly where Noelle intended. Vincent caught it, raised an eyebrow, and shrugged it off with practiced indifference.

“Hey, I never taught him to chase after girls.”

“Oh really?” Noelle kept his tone light, still teasing Donovan. “What exactly did you teach him then?”

Noelle’s gaze shifted to Vincent–calm, steady, unreadable. Vincent felt like every secret he’d ever kept was laid bare under that stare.

He squirmed, looking anywhere but at Noelle. “You’re a lawyer. No way I’m getting into a word fight with you.”

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144 Chapter 144 Heart Made of Jerry

Vincent pushed himself up from the couch. “I’m out of here. Try not to miss me too much.”

Noelle didn’t try to stop him. He looked down at Donovan instead. “How about we head to the park and work on those fall paintings?”

Vincent, already halfway to the door, spun back around with sudden interest. “Paint fall?”

“Donovan’s kindergarten assignment,” Noelle explained, glancing up. “Due tomorrow.”

Vincent’s eyes practically sparkled with mischief. “Why don’t you ask the teacher about organizing a field trip next week? I’ll tag along

with Donovan.”

Noelle saw right through him and sighed, exasperated. “You-”

“It’s settled then,” Vincent cut him off. “You handle the setup. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t corrupt your son.”

The wicked grin Vincent flashed while saying it made Noelle want to punch him square in the jaw.

Still, after all these years, Noelle knew Vincent was reliable where it counted. The guy talked big, but he’d never actually crossed any real

lines.

Vincent reached the parking lot and slid into his car, but didn’t bother starting the engine. He just sat there, phone in hand, opening

Blanche’s chat over and over.

He’d type out messages, then delete them. Type again, delete again. Nothing seemed right.

His eyes gleamed as a devious idea struck. He searched online for a realistic photo of a mangled finger, saved it, and posted it to his

Instagram story.

*Quick question. What should I do if my finger looks like this?*

The image showed a finger drenched in blood with a nasty, deep gash. He set the privacy so only Blanche could see it.

Once posted, he locked his phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat.

The music cranked up loud, and he sang along, dancing in his seat to drown out the chaos churning in his chest.

When his phone finally lit up with a notification, he practically dove for it.

But when he unlocked the screen–just some random app notification. Not Blanche. His smile crumbled, and he chucked the phone aside

in frustration.

Then a thought hit him. *What if Blanche saw my post and left a comment?*

He grabbed the phone again, opening Instagram. One notification waited.

He tapped it immediately, but his excitement crashed again.

Just some random friend liking his post. Not Blanche.

Vincent was so pissed he deleted that friend without a second thought.

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144 Chapter 144 Heart Made of Jerry

He kept checking, refreshing, waiting. But Blanche never messaged. Never even cared.

Finally, he gave up, slammed his palm against the steering wheel, and growled, “Blanche, you’re absolutely heartless. Your heart must be

made of solid stone.”

He was furious. All he’d done was complain about her defending Zain, and now she acted like she couldn’t care less if he lived or died.

If Zain had posted that same photo, Blanche probably would’ve blown up his phone by now.

But when Vincent got hurt? Not even a single word of concern.

Blanche’s POV

I’m putting the finishing touches on Camila’s hair when I can’t help but sneeze twice.

Camila admires herself in the mirror, swinging her legs and munching on an egg tart, her smile pure sweetness. “Aunt Blanche, you’re

amazing. Your hairstyles are just as pretty as Mom’s.”

I absentmindedly smooth Camila’s bun and murmur, “Carry always loved this style too. I used to do it for her all the time.”

But saying it brings a wave of sadness crashing over me.

Camila catches my reflection looking down and quickly jumps in. “Aunt Blanche, you’re incredible. Carry just doesn’t appreciate you right

now. She’ll definitely regret it someday.”

I manage a small smile. “It’s okay. I’m past it now.”

Some things just aren’t worth forcing. Better to let life flow naturally.

Camila hops off the stool and wraps me in a tight hug. “When you have your own kids someday, you can just forget all about Carry.”

I don’t respond. I just gently pat her head. There are things I simply can’t say out loud.

After we’ve held each other for a while, I finally speak up about changing my clothes.

Camila says she’ll keep me company and stay in the room.

While I’m changing, my phone buzzes with a message from Amara. *Want to go shopping this afternoon?*

I think about helping Camila with her fall painting project, so I reply: *Let’s do it next time. I have to help Camila with her art this

afternoon.*

Amara responds: *Okay.*

I don’t reply, but I notice an Instagram notification. I have this habit of scrolling through my updates, so without thinking much about it,

I tap on it.

After scrolling through a couple of posts, I see Vincent’s story.

I tap on the photo, and when I see that injured finger, my brow furrows. I drop a comment right on Vincent’s post.

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145 Chapter 145 Her Mother Was Not Coming

145 Chapter 145 Her Mother Was Not Coming