Chapter 22
Roger donned a proper suit and a black bow tie around his neck, loolding extremely elegant and stylish,
He respectfully arrived before Janelle and greeted her with a smile. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Fletcher. Mr. Fletcher has specially requested that we prepare this welcome feast in your honor.
“Would you be so kind as to follow me to the banquet hall upstairs? If there’s anything you need at all, I’m here at your service.”
The unfolding scene rendered everyone dumbfounded
Roger was the globally acclaimed master chef. The only times they had seen him so respectful and courteous were when he was with Benedict and Murphy,
Just earlier, he mentioned he had received an order from Benedict to prepare a welcome feast for the so–called Mrs. Fletcher–Janelle, the very woman standing before their eyes.
So, did that mean the child was Murphy? Was the averagely dressed Janelle before them actually the future lady of the Fletcher family?
At that thought, everyone bypassed the stupefied Adrian and began buttering up Janelle.
As the wife of the greatly esteemed Benedict Fletcher, she would be the most revered woman in all of Valoria. If they could just curry a bit of favor with her enough for her to whisper a kind word to him–their futures would be as good as secured.
The crowd closed in around Janelle, casting contemptuous glances at Adrian and sneering as they did.
“If there’s anything we learned today, it’s not to judge a book by its cover! Look at him, accusing someone of being a fraud while barely even recognizing his own cousin!”
“That’s right. Mr. Murphy had never even met Adrian before. That’s enough to reflect how little he is regarded in the Fletcher family. That’s the kind of difference we’re talking about!”
“We were greatly mistaken, Mrs. Fletcher. We’re sorry that we didn’t recognize you and Mr. Murphy. Please don’t take it to heart.”
Hearing the noisy chatter around her, Janelle finally snapped out of her shock. She looked away and turned to Murphy. “Baby, what’s going on here?” What was Roger doing, welcoming her and calling her Mrs. Fletcher? Could Tiffany possibly low Benedict? No, that was simply impossible. Murphy turned to her and flashed her a faint smile. “Mommy, why don’t you head upstairs first? I’ll explain to you in a bit.”
A person echoed, “He’s right, Mrs. Fletcher. You should enjoy the feast before anything else.”
“Mrs. Fletcher, why don’t we see you to the hall…”
Just like that, Janelle was swept away by the crowd before she could speak another word.
Murphy stood still, eyes fixed on Janelle as she was showered with attention. A warmth brewed in his gaze, something he had never shown before. As Janelle disappeared into the elevator, his face turned cold again. When he turned to face Adrian, the terrifying chill in his eyes made the latter as though plunged into ice
r shiver
Adrian gulped nervously, his face pale. What was that? Why did he just feel Benedict’s oppressive air from the child before him? He couldn’t actually be Murphy, right? How bizarre would that be?
Although he had never met Murphy, the man who had been with Janelle all those years ago could never have been Benedict.
Just what was happening exactly?
