Perhaps… Azalea did something to me when I lost consciousness six years ago? When I was injured?

The notion sent a chill down Eugene’s spine. The possibility that he fathered these three children morphed into a ball of fear that crept into him-he and Olivia would be over.

At the thought of that, he hurriedly slit his finger with a knife and let the blood drip onto a piece of napkin, which was handed over to Curtis. “I need a DNA test, and keep this between us. You mustn’t let anyone else know about this.”

“Okay, President Nolan,” replied Curtis seriously at Eugene’s somber face before leaving. Eugene’s apprehension grew. At that moment, he wished someone was setting him up by leveraging the children instead of having anything to do with them.

At first, he stayed vigilant regarding the possibility that the children were part of a conspiracy. Now, he was genuinely surprised by them to the extent that he did not inquire about their background, hometown, mother, or age.

consideration. Forget about the fact that he might get jealous; that

whom to seek help from, and someone came into his mind. That second kid to speak… Isn’t he the same kid playing the piano at Mi Amor? He dressed formally, and there was quite a distance, but

hour later, he appeared at Mi Amor and looked at the podium first

convince himself that the kid could not come to work since he was elsewhere today, so he headed to the reception desk. “Is that piano kid

receptionist. He thought for a moment before questioning,

need something from him, sir?” The receptionist frowned. Eugene fished out a business card from his pocket. “Eugene Nolan. My girlfriend is

Blake Rogers. He’s six, and he came up to

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