the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart Chapter 183: Can’t You All Hear That Doting Voice?

When Ignatius Leclair returned, the livestream was interrupted. Delphine didn’t bother dealing with the broadcast anymore; she had originally intended to end the stream once the pogranate-picking was over. She was entirely unaware of the storm brewing in the livestream chat after Kyla Zamora blacked out the cara.

At dinner that night, the entire table was covered with dishes made from pogranates, leaving Delphine utterly stunned.

The old butler stood at the entrance of the dining room, smiling warmly as he said, "Today’s nu was changed last minute: pogranate chicken, sweet-and-sour pogranate pork, pogranate sago pudding, and the leftover pogranates I’ve taken to fernt into wine. Perhaps in two months, you’ll be able to taste the pogranate wine. The two pogranate trees the matriarch planted years ago have grown so well—it’s truly a symbol of good fortune."

Ignatius nodded, a slight curve tugging at his lips, his sharp, handso features looking softer than usual. He said calmly, "Then let’s find ti to harvest all the pogranates in the courtyard."

"Can we give so many pogranates away?" Delphine, seated beside Ignatius, gently asked.

These past days, she had been eating at the sa table and sharing the sa bed with Ignatius. Even the Leclair family’s servants had noticed that Delphine, once soone of no standing in the household, now appeared to hold a status on par with Miss Leah.

"Sure, you can handle it however you want. These pogranates were wasted in past years anyway," Ignatius responded in his deep voice.

Delphine felt a surge of delight. She couldn’t wait to fill a basket with pogranates – so to send to Leah, so to Kyla Zamora, Jason, and others, and even so for the neighbors.

Ignatius glanced at the faint dimples at the corners of her smile. His gaze deepened, and a certain itch stirred within him. He thought of setting aside several acres near Erald Lake to grow seasonal fruits, imagining her picking them during harvest ti and making dishes for him. The thought simply felt perfect.

With that in mind, a rare sense of peace settled into Ignatius’s heart.

Dinner was exceptionally delightful. The aroma of pogranates lingered through the autumn night, refusing to dissipate.

After dinner, Ignatius followed his routine of swimming, while Delphine, after bathing, sat on the small balcony outside their bedroom with her laptop, checking the reactions to the livestream.

Seeing the flurry of activity online, she froze in shock and quickly dialed Kyla Zamora’s number.

Kyla’s phone was off, and Jason’s was too. This livestream incident had already drawn significant attention; the number of viewers had once peaked at over ten million. There had been nothing problematic about the content—be it the painting or the pogranate-picking—but everything had gone awry when a man’s voice abruptly intruded at the end of the broadcast. Cold, urgent, and filled with the dominating authority of soone in control.

Although the stream had been cut off quickly, speculation exploded imdiately.

"Breaking news: The sponsor behind the Twin Flowers’ female lead has surfaced!"

"A rundown of actresses who climbed the ladder through backdoor deals—guess who tops the list this ti?"

"The livestream scandal! A man’s voice infiltrates the Twin Flowers’ female lead’s broadcast!"

Online trolls rushed in en masse. Twin Flowers was still trending in theaters, and now the scandal involving its protagonist being "kept" was drawing all eyes in the Entertainnt Sector.

Delphine clenched her lips, utterly furious—she wanted nothing more than to slap Ignatius to death.

At the mont, the official channels hadn’t issued any statents, but Weibo had already erupted into chaos.

Fans of Twin Flowers raised their proverbial fists to defend their beloved star.

"Your wild imaginations are incredible. What sponsor, what ’kept’ nonsense? Maybe it’s just one of Delphine’s family mbers."

"A functioning brain is a great thing—hope y’all get one. Who’d go to a sponsor’s house just to livestream?"

"Oh my God, that voice was so doting; can’t y’all hear it? If there’s a sponsor like that, I’ll take a dozen, please!"

"What are you looking at?" a low and husky voice interrupted.

Ignatius had just finished swimming and erged after his shower. His hair was still slightly damp, and he casually wore a bathrobe that revealed his toned and alluring chest.

The man walked over and, with a crisp "clap," shut her laptop. Then he pinned her entire body against the wooden lounge chair.