Chapter 190: The Sweet Stickiness of Love

This kid! Mr. Robertson thought to himself, Why didn’t I notice this side of him before? In today’s internet slang, you might call him a “white lotus”—acting all innocent while being manipulative! And he even dared to use the word "evil"! When Mr. Robertson glanced at Irene, it was clear—she was entirely captivated by Stefan’s charm! Couldn’t she see that she was being deceived by him? But Irene didn’t pay much attention to the subtle battle of glances between them; she was focused on something more important. She noticed that Mr. Robertson’s bodyguards had been changed. The last time, when Irene helped rescue Palmer, she had noticed some issues with the security arrangements for the Norman family. At that time, she wasn’t closely connected to them and felt it would be inappropriate to bring it up out of the blue. So she had casually mentioned it to Stefan during a conversation. Stefan had passed on her observations to Palmer. After Palmer’s kidnapping, his bodyguards were indeed reprimanded for their failure to respond quickly. The Norman family had held a review meeting, laying out a series of protocols. For example, why was Palmer standing alone at the street corner? Where were his bodyguards? If Palmer had sent them to buy water or something else, should someone have stayed with him? Palmer had reviewed their feedback report and, recalling Stefan’s advice, added a few more points to improve the protocols. After these changes, even Stefan noticed that the Norman family’s security was as tight as a drum. But now, Irene observed that something had changed again. It wasn’t that the security was worse, but it wasn’t as solid as when she had first made her suggestions. Irene asked the secretary who was standing by Mr. Robertson, “Secretary, has anyone made changes to the Norman family’s security arrangements?” The secretary, catching her meaning, replied with a puzzled expression, “I haven’t received any requests for such adjustments.” However, since Miss Irene was concerned, the secretary asked, “Miss, do you think there’s something that needs changing?” Irene nodded and shared some details with the secretary. Though he wasn’t an expert in security, the secretary had attended meetings with the security department, so he understood the basics. He nodded in agreement, “Thank you, Miss. Your considerations are very thorough.” The secretary enjoyed working under someone like Irene, who was straightforward and clear in her instructions. There was no need for guessing or reading between the lines, unlike Mr. Robertson, who, although not intentionally cryptic, didn’t always spell things out for his subordinates. Mr. Robertson was still in high spirits, despite his ongoing standoff with Stefan. Now in his mid-fifties, Mr. Robertson’s temperament had become more childlike with age. As a young man, he had been quite rebellious, not wanting to marry until he was twenty-three. By the time he had his eighth child, he was thirty-six. So, for Irene, having a father of this age wasn’t too bad; he wasn’t overly old. But as Mr. Robertson approached sixty, his behavior was increasingly like that of a child. In the company of his trusted aides, his nephew, and the daughter he had just found, Mr. Robertson let his temper show, glaring at Stefan, hoping to provoke him and then warn Irene that this young man was up to no good. But Mr. Robertson underestimated Stefan’s thick skin. Stefan stood there calmly, even smiling as he poured Mr. Robertson a glass of water, saying, “Here, have a drink. Warm water is good for you.” Mr. Robertson was exasperated but knew that Stefan was too familiar with his ways to be easily upset. Stefan had been around Mr. Robertson long enough to recognize when he was holding back. He quickly tried to appease him, “You’ve finally found Miss Irene. That’s a reason to celebrate. I’ll join you in a drink.” Harper had already heated up some wine. It was a strong spirit that Irene had packed in her bag, supposedly a specialty brought over from the East. Heated and served warm, it was said to ward off the chill. Irene glanced over and, seeing it was just warm white wine, didn’t object. Mr. Robertson grumbled but downed the small glass of wine in one go. Before he drank, he had complained, “Get me a bigger glass! What is this? It’s too dainty!” But after drinking, Mr. Robertson’s face flushed with warmth, and he was left speechless. Forcing himself to maintain his composure, he said, “My Irene doesn’t need your approval!” In the time it took for Irene to finish talking with the secretary, Stefan and Mr. Robertson were already drinking. And it seemed Mr. Robertson had had too much, while Stefan had barely sipped his drink. Irene couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Mr. Robertson, for all his shrewdness, had let his emotions take over after finding his daughter. He wasn’t thinking clearly and had allowed Stefan to outmaneuver him. Irene gave Stefan a look of mock disapproval. How could he let his elder get drunk like that? Stefan, understanding her concern, quickly said, “I didn’t make him drink. Uncle Robertson only had a couple of shots.” But before Irene could respond, Mr. Robertson, now clearly drunk, began to cry, “Daughter, your mother’s confused, but I’m not. Your mother... sigh, she’s not well, and I’m sorry...” He was holding onto Irene’s hand tightly, tears streaming down his face. Irene, seeing Mr. Robertson’s tear-streaked face, couldn’t help but sigh. From his words, she gleaned some new information and began to reconsider her views about the adopted daughter in the Norman family. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to the story. Irene could feel the warmth and love in Mr. Robertson’s rough hands—a deep, profound love that was different from the love Stefan gave her. Stefan’s love was light, gentle, like invisible wings that made her smile. But Mr. Robertson’s love was weighty, filled with a deep, warm affection like a mountain. Irene felt a sense of happiness. Now, she had a brother lying in a hospital bed and a father who loved her dearly. She didn’t have to return to the Norman family, but this kind of love made it impossible to refuse their invitation. Especially since her father, at his age, had braved the rain to rush over to see her. Irene was deeply moved by this. So, Irene wouldn’t say anything harsh to Mr. Robertson, even though she still had some lingering doubts about the Norman family having an adopted daughter who seemed to have been brought in to replace her.