Perfect CEO
Chapter 131
“What are you two doing?”
Justin and Julian exchanged looks, and the latter answered with a smile, “We're playing, Mommy.”
The two swiftly retreated. Gwendolyn peeked over and saw the two watching cartoons.
Only then did she sigh in relief.
“Where did you get the money for the tuition fees? Zayden told me you two were trading stocks with him. You're not allowed to do that from now on. You should learn to work honestly instead of thinking about raking big bucks every day.”
Justin got up and pulled Gwendolyn to sit on the bed. There was a cabinet separating Juliette's bed. The three siblings lived in the same room, but Juliette had her own secret space.
Julian turned around the chair to face Gwendolyn. “We just traded once, and we never touched it again, Mommy. We got the money from stock trading last time, and it's just enough for your tuition fees.”
Gwendolyn stared at her two sons. They were too bright, and there were times she did not know what they were thinking.
She only understood Juliette and knew what she was thinking.
Gwendolyn hoped her two sons would simply act like Juliette and be innocent children.
“Really?” Gwendolyn asked.
The two raised their right hands and promised, “We swear—”
Before they could finish, Gwendolyn interrupted, “Never mind, don't say it. I believe you.”
The brothers smiled as they looked at each other. Then, Gwendolyn went back to her room to take a bath.
As she took her clothes and headed to the bathroom, her phone rang. She turned around and saw her phone lying on the bed, the screen flickering.
Gwendolyn put down her pajamas, took the phone, and noticed it was a call from Patrick.
She was reluctant to answer it. It's already past eight. Is that guy going to ask me to make desserts for him?
However, Gwendolyn also did not want to lose her job. After all, she owed him a huge amount of money.
“Hello, who is it? I'm about to go to bed.”
“It's not even nine yet, and you're already about to sleep? Are you turning into a chicken, Gwendolyn?”
Gwendolyn pouted angrily. You and your whole family are chickens.
“What do you want, Mr. Lowen?”
Patrick had just returned from a dinner meeting, and he was sitting in his car. He did not take a sip of alcohol, but he smoked a lot, and his throat felt quite scratchy.
He reached up to loosen his tie. He narrowed his eyes as his Adam's apple bobbed.
“I have to remind you of something, Gwendolyn. You can't shower tonight, or your allergic areas will heal slower.” His eyes darkened as he spoke.
Some scenes from the previous night appeared in his mind. Patrick gulped as he willed away those impure thoughts.
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