The reporter felt a wave of embarrassment take over her. She reluctantly withdrew her trembling hand that held the microphone.
Vicente turned to another camera and smiled. "My wife and babies are safe. The two boys are still in the incubators because they were born prematurely. That's all you need to know. Don't try to find out what my children look like, or...
Just be careful what you report." Vicente smiled politely again. The warning was made very apparent though.
Vicente proudly left with her head held high. As soon as she entered the elevator, she leaned against the wall, clenching her fist against her lips and chuckled.
Noah looked at Vicente curiously. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Vicente burst into laughter. "Nina is right. We have to be tough, put ourselves first, and stop trying to accommodate others."
Noah was confused and asked, "Are you talking about how you dealt with that reporter? So you weren't like this before?"
Vicente sighed. "No, I weren't."
Noah was a little stunned. "I thought you were always like this."
Hearing this, Vicente was speechless.
The elevator went up more than ten floors with Vicente not saying a single word to Noah, ignoring him all the way up. It was not until the elevator doors opened that she explained, "Since I want to hold this position, I need to build a nearly perfect image in front of everyone to gain their support. Sometimes I feel like I'm a schizophrenic patient."
Everyone had unspeakable difficulties. During the past half month, Noah took note of how depressed Vicente was and how much mental tension she was battling with. Especially at night, Noah just needed to make a slight move and it was enough to wake Vicente up.
However, she always seemed to have endless energy when she spoke to him.
"By the way, it's getting dark. You can't catch your flight now. What are you going to do?" Vicente stopped and looked at Noah. "How about getting a ticket for tomorrow?"
Noah walked past Vicente and said, "Let's wait until Nini wakes up."
"Okay." Vicente turned around and followed Noah.
At the door of the ward, the two of them looked through the glass and saw that John was holding Nina's hand, staring at her worriedly. They didn't want to intrude so they waited outside for a moment.
Suddenly, Vicente's phone rang. She took it and saw that Anne was calling her.
"Mom..."
"Vicente, why didn't you tell us that my daughter was giving birth?"
Vicente was so anxious that she forgot about it. She said guiltily, "The operation just finished, and I was about to contact you."
"Why didn't you tell us sooner? You should have informed us as soon as possible." Anne was furious. "How is she now? Were the reports right? Is Nina all right? How about the babies?"
Vicente answered cautiously, "The doctor said that Nina would only wake up later."
"So she is still unconscious?" The cold voice of Anne was enough to send shivers down anyone's spine. "We're at the hospital. Bye."
She hung up a second later.
Vicente took her phone away from her ear and happened to see today's news—"Princess Nina has given birth to twins. Mother and children are safe."
The media seemed to obey Vicente's orders. They wrote a good headline without misreporting anything.
Noah caught a glimpse of the news and asked, "Are Nini's parents coming?"
"They just arrived at the gate of the hospital. They are probably in the elevator by now." Vicente clicked the photo album on her phone. When she went to see the children just now, she took a photo through the glass while no one was watching.
She zoomed in, but in all honesty, the only thing that could be seen in the blurry picture was the vague outline of the babies
Noah asked, "Should I avoid them?"
"It doesn't matter. They knew that you have been here for more than half a month. You and Nina are good friends, and they are okay with that." Vicente suddenly raised her eyes and looked at the man sitting beside the bed. She panicked and shouted, "John!"
With a loud bang, Vicente pushed the door open.
"John, Nina's parents are here. You'd better leave as soon as possible!" Vicente hurried towards him.
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