Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime - Chapter 719 - Chapter 719: Chapter 719 Why should I give it to her_1

Chapter 719: Chapter 719 Why should I give it to her_1

However, Purple Summers had already run off, completely ignoring Alexander Summers’ irritation.

A moment later, she returned beaming with joy, holding a book in her arms and showing off to Alexander, “A book by Mr. Matt, with his autograph on the title page!”

Alexander said bluntly, “Let’s go, time to go home and sleep.”

She was so used to his moodiness that she didn’t take it too seriously. In a good mood, she said goodbye to Gavin Graves and then followed behind Alexander like a little tail, leaving the studio.

Gavin Graves watched her retreating figure, feeling a chill in his heart.

He never expected that there would be such a hidden connection between him and Purple Summers. If Meredith Richards had stayed in Kingsley, would the situation be different now? …Perhaps not.

Experience shapes a person’s character. Purple Summers, having grown up in the Presidential Palace, would inevitably not be the same person she was now.

The melancholy of yearning yet unfulfilled fermented the emotions, turning them intense and bitter.

He was, of course, aware of Roy Howard’s warnings and knew that Purple Summers had no interest in him. It was precisely because he understood all this that he felt even more desolate…

…

After a whole night of reflection, the Simonson family seemed to have accepted the existence of Purple Summers.

The family gathered around the table for breakfast, each lost in their thoughts.

Christopher Simonson was in a daze, thinking about having a daughter who had already grown up so much without his knowledge, and his heart was filled with indescribable mixed emotions.

Caitlin Carter, on the other hand, thought that no matter what had happened in the past, a child was ultimately innocent and shouldn’t be swept into such turmoil, and ought to be brought back for care and compensation.

Old Mrs. Simonson, however, had a very poor first impression of Purple Summers, and now that it affected her son’s presidential election, she disliked Purple Summers even more. Yet, when she saw the photos of Purple Summers, who had striking resemblance to Christopher Simonson, she felt a sliver of affection–after all, blood was blood, and she could even discern traces of her younger self in Purple Summers’ features.

But why did it have to be that woman’s child?

The old lady was both resentful and reluctant, her mood so conflicted that it felt like a clump of silt was lodged in her chest, brewing a gentle and persistent discomfort.

“Being raised without parents’ discipline has made her so arrogant and unmanageable!” she complained with drooping eyelids, “After all, she’s a child of the Simonson family. Once we bring her back, she’ll be properly educated to avoid shame in public.”

Everyone at the table ate in silence, with no one responding.

Old Mrs. Simonson’s pent-up resentment had no outlet, and her tone grew increasingly harsh, “Is she satisfied now? All that scheming was just to enter the doors of my Simonson family, right? Fine, let it be as she wishes! It’s also time for her to learn from Violet on how to be a true refined lady and a daughter of wealth!”

“Mom, if this child is truly my flesh and blood, shouldn’t we be the ones to properly make it up to her?” Christopher Simonson found her words grating and couldn’t help but interject, “Why are you always like this? Is it that you can’t accept anyone into the Simonson family without your reeducation?”

Old Mrs. Simonson’s lowered eyelids shot up, and she glared in anger, “You’re defending her already?! When that woman left, I didn’t see her pregnant! We still don’t know for sure whose child it is, and you’re picking a fight with me over some bastard of uncertain origin? Do you still have any respect for your mother?!”

–Bang!

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A delicately painted sky-blue floral porcelain bowl was forcefully placed on the table, making a sound.

The arguing at the dining table momentarily fell silent.

Old Master Simonson picked up a teacup from beside him nonchalantly, took a sip, and said, “Caitlin, arrange for a servant to clean up a room later, the room at the southwest corner is quite nice, next to the sunroom facing south. Open the window and you can see all the flowers and plants; any young girl would like that.”

Old Mrs. Simonson objected, “That room is Violet’s music room, why should we give it to her?!”

“Because she has Simonson blood flowing through her veins,” replied the old master.