The Enigmatic Return By Juliana. Spicy - Season 4 Episode 11

Jean paid little attention to Joanna’s expression or mood, completely indifferent to her presence.

With Wrenn resting, he proceeded to visit his father in the study.

Frederic had refrained from visiting the company because of Wrenn’s illness, choosing instead to remain at home. Her well–being weighed heavily on his mind, and he found himself unable to focus on work during this time.

As Jean entered the study, he was greeted by the sight of his father, seated behind his desk, a contemplative expression on his face as he leisurely smoked a cigar.

The haze of smoke enveloped the room, the scent of tobacco permeating every corner.

Jean’s brow twitched as he approached, taking a seat across from his father. He offered a reminder, “Mom will be mad if she catches you smoking again.”

Frederic glanced at him before lifting the cigar to his lips, exhaling a plume of smoke, and casually dropping a

one knows, who’s to say anything?” comment, “Then don’t let her find out. If

Raising an eyebrow, Jean inquired, “You quit smoki

moking long ago. Why have you taken it up again?”

Frederic let out a resigned sigh, “It’s out of concern. When it comes to the two of you, I have plenty to worry about. My hair has turned gray because of you

Jean cast a glance at his father’s silver hair but remained silent.

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“It’s unclear if your condition will improve. Your mother’s health is fragile right now, and that has me concerned. If anything were to happen between the two of you…”

His voice trailed off, the weight of his worry evident. “What would I do then?”

Sympathy softening his expression, Jean spoke up, “Mom only caught a cold. Are you jinxing her? Besides, my health is improving. Neera is helping me seek treatment, and my condition has rarely flared up. Isn’t that a positive sign? You shouldn’t be such a pessimist.”

Frederic’s words caught in his throat, the trembling cigar nearly falling onto his lap.

He stared angrily at Jean, his frustration evident as he exclaimed, “I’m worried about you as well!”

At the same time, he pressed his cigar into the ashtray, his expression unwavering as he added, “Plus, you’re not fully recovered yet. I won’t find peace until you make a full comeback. It’s a constant worry for me.”

Recognizing Frederic’s genuine anxiety for his health, Jean offered reassurance in a patient tone, “Don’t worry, old man. I’ll outlive you, and Mom will be healthy.”

Frederic silently held onto that hope.

However, no matter how you phrased it, it did sound rather awkward!

As Frederic thought about this, a sense of unease settled in. Rolling his eyes, he retorted, “Off you go, you little rascal! If you’ve got nothing to do, don’t disturb me. The company has plenty to attend to, and I’ve let you have your way. Why are you slacking off and sneaking around the house?”

of

Maintaining his composure, Jean responded, “People are keeping an eye on things at the company. I wouldn’t feel at ease leaving if it weren’t for Mom. I’ll return later tonight. For now… Would you care for a game chess?”

Frederic’s heart warmed upon hearing this.

A devoted chess enthusiast, Frederic often roped people into games with him.

His younger son had impressive chess skills, and each match was a true contest.

But he aimed to maintain a facade of arrogance, remarking, “You still know how to make your Dad happy.”

Nonetheless, he deftly set up the chessboard, his hands skillfully arranging the pieces. “I’ll be the black pieces, and you can be white.”

Jean playfully pursed his lips, leaning in attentively as he reached for a piece from the chess set…

The father and son spent the entire morning engrossed in the game.

By noon, they shared a meal, and when Mr. Jenkins mentioned Frederic’s recent lack of appetite, Jean encouraged him to eat more.

After lunch, Frederic took a brief nap, while Jean was managing his emails in the living room.

Unable to remain still, Joanna found an opportune moment to descend the stairs and casually asked, “Mr. Beauvort, would you like some coffee? Should I make a cup for you?”

Without lifting his gaze, Jean promptly declined, his retort sharp, “No. If you’re capable enough, why haven’t you managed to cure my mother sooner?”