Kenneth Brown looked speechlessly at the man before him, suddenly feeling like a scholar encountering a soldier—utterly unable to reason with him.
Where did this barbarian co from, so completely devoid of reason?
"I’m sorry, but we cannot et your demands," Kenneth Brown said, trying to maintain a friendly dialogue with the man.
"You will et them whether you can or not!" Adrian Desmond sat firmly, legs crossed, and declared arrogantly.
Kenneth Brown chuckled, abandoning any further attempt to reason with Adrian Desmond. He approached the boy’s mother, Aria Harris, hoping to find a breakthrough with her.
"Hello, my na is Kenneth Brown. I brought so food for your son. You should have so too. Your child will be fine."
Her darling son had been so badly injured; she had no appetite. Indeed, every parent dotes on their own child. Aria Harris looked resentfully at the man before her. "My son is so injured, how could I possibly have the appetite to eat?"
"I can understand your feelings..."
Aria Harris said passionately, "It’s not your daughter who’s injured! You will never understand how I feel! And do you think offering money can solve everything?"
"Then what do you want?"
Kenneth Brown knew Curly had gone too far, but if bla were to be strictly assigned, George was also responsible. Why would he just casually kiss Curly like that?
"How could your daughter be so vicious?"
The smile vanished from Kenneth Brown’s face. "Madam, for every result, there’s a cause. You’re only seeing the effect, but why not consider *why* Curly kicked your son?"
"It was just a kiss, wasn’t it?"
Aria Harris dismissed it as a childish prank, not taking it seriously.
Kenneth Brown said sarcastically, "Our culture in Orienta is different from yours in Abyanabad. Won in our country have a strong sense of chastity. Your son casually kissed our daughter, and she acted rely in self-defense. Can one act like a hooligan just because they’re young? Aria, as a mother yourself, please refrain from using such venomous words to describe my daughter. Curly is a lovely child, and our entire family treasures her. We’ve approached this matter with utmost humility, rely seeking a peaceful resolution. Or is it that you won’t be satisfied unless you get to kick Curly in return?"
"..."
"And please consider, if your son hadn’t behaved inappropriately towards my daughter, why would she have kicked him?"
"But you can’t just break a child’s... like that," Aria Harris said, bewildered. How could they raise such a cruel daughter?
"My daughter is exceptionally beautiful, and there are too many predators in this world," Kenneth Brown said, glancing aningfully at the little boy lying in the bed. "If she doesn’t learn so self-defense, wouldn’t she be easily taken advantage of?"
"You..." Aria Harris wasn’t good at arguing. With tears in her eyes, she said aggrievedly, "So my son was beaten for nothing?"
"We apologize for my daughter’s excessive self-defense. Since it has happened, we are willing to do our utmost to compensate for the harm you’ve both suffered."
But for them to want Curly as a future junior wife for their son? They could forget about it. What kind of nonsense is this, wanting to marry several wives?
"Adrian, look at them..." Aria Harris turned to Adrian Desmond, appealing to him helplessly.
"George kissed your daughter; let your daughter kiss him back. Your daughter kicked George; George should kick her back," Adrian Desmond stated cruelly, completely closed off to any negotiation.
Kenneth Brown looked at Adrian. The man was handso and proud, possessing an elegant air. Yet, there was a casual indifference in his tone, and even his profile exuded a sharp, oppressive aura.
He was clearly no ordinary person. Kenneth Brown didn’t know his background, but there was no one like him in Sileria City’s social circles.
"Sir, my daughter is only three years old. She’s just a child."
Adrian Desmond toyed with the wedding ring on his finger, his eyes calm and emotionless. He said coolly, "Only three years old, and she dares to break a man’s ****. When she grows up, won’t she commit arson and murder?" He added, "Just as I thought—bad seed!"
Even Kenneth Brown’s good temper finally snapped. "Sir, don’t go too far!"
"I am going too far. What can you do about it?" Adrian Desmond stood up. Nearly 1.9 ters tall, his figure lood like a mountain, pressing nacingly towards Kenneth.
Adrian Desmond’s wolfish eyes narrowed as he said bloodthirstily, "I’ll give you two choices: One, give your daughter to our George as his wife. Two, let George kick her back!"
"That’s impossible!"
Just as the adults’ negotiations reached a stalemate, George woke up. The mont he regained consciousness, he felt a pain in his lower body so intense he thought he might pass out again. Seeing the people in the room, his gaze fixed on his mother. "Mom..."
"George, you’re awake."
"Mom, why are you crying?"
"Because..." Aria Harris wiped her tears with a handkerchief, looking at her son with tender affection. How could she tell him that his vital part had been ruptured?
Kenneth Brown smiled. "So, you’re George?"
"I am."
Kenneth Brown, who usually got along very well with Curly, knew what kind of expression children liked. He walked to George’s bedside, a kind smile on his face, and greeted him, "Oh, hello. I’m Kenneth Brown, Curly’s father. I apologize to you on behalf of my daughter."
"Her na is Curly?"
"Yes. Because she was born with curly hair, which is very cute, her mother nad her Curly."
George’s face turned red again. "Uncle, then tell Curly my na is George."
"Okay."
Kenneth Brown looked at the shy little boy and said deliberately, "Are you feeling all right now? Curly was so worried when she heard you were injured that she didn’t even eat dinner. Her mother wanted to punish her, and Curly cried for a long ti..."
"Tell Auntie Agatha not to hit her! I’m fine, I don’t hurt at all, HAHA... It was just a kick, right? If she likes kicking, she can kick a few more tis."
Aria Harris was dumbfounded.
Adrian Desmond was equally stunned.
"Then you rest well. How about I bring Curly to see you tomorrow?"
Kenneth Brown looked at the little boy, completely smitten with Curly, and sneered inwardly. Such a young age, and already such a brazen little lecher. If Curly were to marry him, could she ever find happiness?
"Yes, please! When will Curly co?"
"She still has school, you know. So it would have to be after school finishes."
"Then I’ll wait for her." George’s eyes sparkled, so overjoyed that he montarily forgot the pain from his injury.
"Good. Well, Uncle will leave now and co see you again tomorrow. Oh, by the way, Uncle brought you so dinner. Rember to eat it. Curly specifically asked to bring it for you."
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