Classic Novel
Chapter 37
Yvan thought to himself, his expression turning frosty as he said to Carl. “She likes playing chicken with me: well she’s got it. I want to see how long she can hold out!”
Two days later, when Matilda found out all her design work had been pulled from the internet, Gideon was shaking with rage. “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!”
Yvan wasn’t just targeting them anymore: he was cutting off their lifeline!
Tears welled up in Matilda’s eyes. “Bro, don’t be rash. You’ll only be playing right into Yvan’s hands!”
“How can he do this to
U?” Gideon swept everything off the table in a fit of anger. “You bore his child, went through hell and back, and this is how he repays you?”
Matilda’s lips trembled. “No… Bro, there’s still hope…”
They couldn’t give up. They couldn’t let Logan fall into his hands!
The next day, as Yvan settled into his office routine, Carl walked in, a frown creasing her forehead. “Mr. Boyd… there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who?”
“Just… a kid.”
At that moment. Logan stood at the office door, locked in a verbal standoff with the secretary
outside.
“I told you, I need to see my dad!”
“How do I know you’re not just some random kid?” The secretary looked down her nose at him. “I’ve seen plenty of women claiming to be Mr. Boyd’s, and now here comes a kid. Who put you up to this, huh? Your mom trying to snag Mr. Boyd?”
“My mom couldn’t care less about any Mr. Boyd!” Logan retorted, his face flushed with anger. “But I really am Yvan’s son!”
“You bear a slight resemblance, but that’s a bold scam for a kid your age…” The secretary Content © NôvelDrama.Org.
honed him away. “I don’t lay hands on children, but you, little brat, you’re asking for it.”
“Who are you calling a brat?”
A chilling voice from behind made the secretary jump. When she turned, she saw Yvan standing there, his face an icy mask, while Carl looked on with detached indifference.
Sweat beaded on the secretary’s forehead. “Mr. Boyd… the child was lying, saying he’s your
son. L…
“He is my son. Is there a problem?” Yvan sneered. “It seems my secretary is quite capable, daring to insult my son. What’s next, stepping over me?”
“Mr. Boyd! I wouldn’t darel” The secretary trembled, her face ashen. “I didn’t know… Mr. Boyd, please be merciful…”
“Don’t make me say it twice. Now, go and collect your paycheck.”
With a scoff, Yvan turned away from the secretary and went to open the door for Logan, squatting down in front of him, his demeanor softening, “I hear you’ve been looking for me?”
Logan gazed at Yvan’s face, his father’s face, and thought how strikingly similar they were. It was like the Creator had fashioned them from the same mold; such was the power of blood
ties.
Standing together, no one could doubt Logan’s identity. His resemblance to Yvan was proof enough.
“Yeah, I need to talk to you.” Logan pursed his lips, speaking lightly. “It’s about Mommy.”