the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart Chapter 544: With my uncle’s icy face, are these women all m

Benjamin Leclair’s fourth birthday was held at the great-grandmother’s house.

Today, the little girl’s look was styled as Snow White—a dazzling satin dress paired with a tiny diamond crown. Sweet and timid, she had accompanied Daddy to the great-grandmother’s house early in the morning. She first received a pile of gifts and praise from the elders, then sat at her little birthday party table waiting for her friends to arrive and celebrate her special day.

anwhile, the Howard Family’s elderly matriarch pulled her grandson aside and quietly asked, "Does Benjamin like that Miss Gold you t during the arranged match last ti?"

Ignatius Leclair paused for a second before rembering which Miss Gold the old lady was referring to. He barely recalled her appearance. After pondering briefly, he replied indifferently, "Can’t say I like her."

Two years ago, Ignatius Leclair’s business focus was still in South Asia, so he would often leave Benjamin at the Howard Family’s residence. Despite the elders showering her with affection, she was, after all, considered part of a relative’s household. By the ti he noticed the little girl’s sowhat calculating and reserved personality—disinclined to express her true feelings—it had already beco difficult to rectify.

Ignatius decisively began residing in Imperial City, personally taking care of his daughter. However, his naturally reserved and composed deanor combined with an indifferent attitude left him struggling when his daughter grew to mirror his personality. He found the resemblance troubling.

"Benjamin’s personality takes after you. You know what they say—three-year-old habits reflect at eighty. If you don’t find her a mother soon, it’ll be too late to change her temperant." The elderly matriarch observed the situation with concern.

"But a stepmother will always feel like an outsider. If she ends up having children of her own, oh, poor Benjamin." The old lady’s eyes brimd with tears.

The man lowered his striking brow and eyes, his cold and steely face like ice, devoid of emotion. He replied firmly, "There won’t be other children. Benjamin won’t be hurt."

"Benjamin will eventually marry. Are you planning to leave both the Leclair family’s legacy and your personal assets to her? Or are you thinking of bringing back Big Benjamin soday?" The elderly matriarch was ahead of the curve, but the thought left her uneasy.

Back then, that young lady had been so fiercely resolute. After taking Big Benjamin away three years ago, there hadn’t been any news since. If her grandson brought Big Benjamin back now, it would surely destroy that young lady.

Ignatius Leclair’s sharp, almond-shaped eyes turned dark and brooding. He said nothing.

"Great-grandmother, great-grandmother, co quickly!" Amid the conversation, Benjamin joyfully ran over, pulling the old lady by the hand and tugging her outside.

A crowd of children had gathered outside, their chatter and laughter creating a lively atmosphere. The Howard Family’s banquet hall had been divided into three areas: one for Benjamin’s mountain-like pile of gifts, one for assortnts of desserts and refreshnts, and the last for a playground for the children.

For many of the fifteen to twenty children, it was their first ti attending such an exclusive party tailored to kids. They surrounded Benjamin, taking turns complinting the delicious desserts, expressing envy over her gifts, and inviting her to join their gas.

Benjamin was so excited she nearly lost her composure.

Cassius Turner, noticing his little nephew—already in elentary school—being forced to join the younger participants from kindergarten, couldn’t help but press a hand against his forehead and sigh deeply. "Damn capitalist excess," he muttered.

"Wilbur, what’ve you been up to lately, sneaking around all mysteriously?" The Howard Family’s Demon King Hun nudged Wilbur Turner with his elbow, winking exaggeratedly as he asked.

Cassius didn’t answer. His gaze shifted to the banquet hall, where a handso, cold-faced man stood talking with the elderly matriarch. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Is that your little uncle—the renowned Leclair heir whose reputation overshadowed the rest of Imperial City’s elite families in recent years?"

"Who else could it be? Ever since my little uncle showed up, people like have fallen out of favor in the circle." Yeats Howard pointed at his ruggedly handso, roguish appearance with gritted teeth, then lanted, "Just look at my little uncle’s stone-cold face—won are lining up from Imperial City all the way to South Asia to chase after him. I just can’t figure it out—are all these won masochists or what?"