NovelGoldChapter 284 "It means when your mom and your real dad split up, and she married someone new-that's your stepdad!" Little Nina frowned. "My godfather and my mom are just friends. He isn't my stepdad. Besides, my real dad passed away." "Huh? Oh, your dad died?" Susan's face filled with sympathy as she reached for Nina's hand. "I'm sorry! Please don't be sad. Even if your real dad is gone, your godfather is so tall and handsome! If my mom could findsuch a good-looking godfather, I wouldn't mind if my dad was gone either!" Little Nina: "...?" Although she couldn't quite follow Susan's logic, she still felt the need to clarify. "Even though my dad died, I'm not sad at all. There are lots of people who love me-my mom, my godfather, my grandparents, and Mr. Ellsworth! They all care aboutso much. I'm really okay!" Westenmar, the city's most luxurious five-star hotel, was alive with the buzz of a spectacular wedding.
The bride, Rosita. The groom, Garry.
Thousands of guests from all over the world filled the hall-business moguls and industry elites mingling beneath crystal chandeliers.
Dozens of media outlets covered every moment.
Rosita glided in from the chapel doors, radiant in a couture wedding gown worth millions. Instantly, a frenzy of camera flashes lit up the aisle.
Her face glowed with a gentle, blissful smile.
Garry stood waiting, striking in a crisp white suit, every inch the picture of charm.
Rosita reached his side and slipped her arm through his.
Together, they turned to face the officiant.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtDown in the audience, the nanny held little Mario. The boy's pretty face was blank, his eyes distant.
Mario, born with health challenges, tended to retreat into his own world. The nanny had to be especially patient and gentle with him.
Even in this joyful, bustling moment, she coaxed him, guiding his hands to clap. "Look, Mario. That's your mom and dad up there. Today they're getting married- you're their little boy. Isn't that wonderful?" Malet her guide his hands, clapping softly, but his expression barely changed.
Most of the time, he preferred his own quiet company, untouched by the outside world's excitement or concern. Suddenly, Garry and Rosita were exchanging wedding rings.
Just as Garry reached to slip the band onto Rosita's finger, the giant screen behind the officiant flickered to life- An image of Rosita and Irwin appeared.
Then cvideo.
In the video, Irwin called Rosita "Mom," and she responded with unmistakable motherly tenderness.
Rosita's face went pale.
Garry's expression darkened. "Turn that screen off, now!" Pandora leapt into action, rushing to shut it down.
A buzz of whispers and exclamations swept through the guests.
The wedding was being live-streamed-thousands of Rosita's fans across the country watched in shock.
The moment those photos and video appeared, the inteexploded.
"What's the meaning of this?" Garry demanded, glaring at Rosita. "You know Irwin's identity can't be made public. Didn't you?" Rosita shook her head, flustered. "It wasn't me-I don't know how this happened..." "It better not have been you." Garry turned to Pandora. "Find out who did it." Pandora nodded. "Yes, sir." After such a scene, Garry had no intention of continuing the ceremony.
He strode down the aisle, scooped little Mainto his arms, and walked out.
Rosita stood frozen, her mind spinning.
Who did this? Aside from Stewart and Lauren, only a few people-Cedric Clarke among them— knew the truth about her and Irwin.
It couldn't have been Stewart or Cedric. They'd never leak it.
Could it have been... Lauren? Rosita's gaze grew cold and sharp.
But if Lauren did this-what could she possibly want? Silverlake City.
In a sleek black Mercedes, Carl was driving when his phone rang.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHe answered, listening intently before glancing at Stewart in the back seat through the rearview mirror.
"Mr. Wentworth, someone's just leaked the truth about Ms. Lockwood and Master Irwin online. The internet's full of rumors about their relationship." Stewart's brow furrowed. "Get it taken down. Immediately." "Yes, sir." Carl pulled over beside the old town's cobblestone street, switched on the hazard lights, and made a call.
Stewart rolled down the window, turning to look outside.
A group of preschoolers, shepherded by teachers, were scattered along the riverbank park, painting the sunset.
Tiny kids in matching uniforms knelt, perched, or sprawled on the grass, each clutching a paintbrush, their little faces absorbed in their work. One child caught Stewart's eye.
A little girl had propped her drawing board on a classmate's back bem chubby arms waving the brush with wild abandon. It looked like utter chaos-until, in a blink, she produced a surprisingly complete painting.
Stewart's dark eyes narrowed, and a faint, involuntary smile tugged at his lips.
A natural talent, he thought.
Just then, the girl turned. Under the brim of her yellow sunhat, her face cinto view. Stewart's heart skipped a beat.
It was- He threw open the car door and ran toward her.
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