Chapter 31: Third Time's the Charm

"You're married? You don't look that old," the man asked with a hint of shock, then realized it seemed impolite, "Sorry, just a bit surprised."

The flight attendant left after serving the juice.

Polly Song looked at the glass of green, unidentified juice in front of her, the implication all too obvious.

Is this guy too deep into the act?

A couple about to divorce, without any affection, staging a live catch-the-cheater drama?

Soon after the juice was delivered, Andrew Lindsey arrived.

Andrew leaned slightly forward, speaking quietly to not disturb others, "A month of milk tea, or will you go back?"

He really didn't want to keep sitting next to the big boss, whose expression seemed like he could be thrown off the plane at any moment.

Listening to Andrew's words, Polly Song asked, "I get to choose the flavors?"

Andrew nodded, "You order, I foot the bill."

"Include my senior sister and brother?"

"That's fine."

"Deal." Polly Song cheerfully packed her things, making sure to take the glass of green juice when she stood up to leave, "Can't waste President Parker's good intentions."

Andrew smiled gracefully, making way for Polly Song, which was really more of their marital issue; he just wanted to return to his own seat.

Polly Song slowly returned to first class with the juice, where Victoria Parker was talking to Isabella Lowe across the aisle. Polly Song went over and placed the juice on the table in front of Victoria Parker, "You're welcome."

Victoria Parker looked at the woman who had walked in front of her, "What did Andrew offer you?"

This willing return, he didn't believe she wasn't given something in exchange.

After sitting down, Polly Song finally relaxed, and indeed, it's money that brings comfort.

"A month's supply of milk tea." Polly Song stretched with visible delight.

Victoria Parker: "..."

Being this happy over a month's milk tea, he never saw her this happy with that thirty million.

"Is that all you're capable of?"

Polly Song's face immediately showed disdain, "You people who don't work overtime will never understand the magic of milk tea."

"Coffee is more magical."

"That's a luxury expense; don't flaunt your wealth in front of the poor."

"That's a matter of taste, not money."

"What do you mean, you look down on milk tea? Do you think drinking coffee makes you superior?"

The two squabbled over a trivial issue, while Isabella Lowe, sitting across the aisle, listened to their conversation clearly. She knew Polly Song was bored, but didn't expect Victoria Parker to humor her boredom.

At least such words were something Victoria Parker would never say before.

As they talked, Polly Song's voice grew softer, until she mumbled as if a small chick nodding off.

Victoria Parker got a blanket from the flight attendant and covered her, hearing her muttering as he got closer.

"Milk tea is the best."

Victoria Parker: "..."

Victoria Parker's lips involuntarily curled up, but quickly straightened as he tucked the blanket around her and returned to normal.

"You've become unlike yourself," Isabella Lowe remarked, looking at Victoria Parker.

"People don't change; you just realize your understanding wasn't so deep," Victoria Parker said slowly, "and then transform your own lack of understanding into blaming others for changing. Put simply, it's just a self-serving statement."

Isabella Lowe chuckled softly, "You're right, realizing things aren't as you understood isn't others' fault, but a lack of understanding on your own part. Enlightening."

Victoria Parker resumed reading the document he was halfway through, while Isabella Lowe looked at the sleeping Polly Song, "If the Rook Family's one was still alive..."

"I never make assumptions because they're meaningless," Victoria Parker replied, looking up at Isabella Lowe, "The deceased are already at peace, and the living shouldn't disturb them."

Isabella Lowe was taken aback; Victoria Parker's tone was calm, yet it contained a hint of reproach toward her.

"I overstepped."

Victoria Parker continued with his document. The Rook Family's lady was often mentioned by his mother, though he didn't have many impressions of that little baby, merely recalling a fair, chubby little thing, with most memories stemming from people around him over the years occasionally bringing up the oral agreement from back then.

Thinking of this, Victoria Parker glanced at Polly Song sleeping like a little piggy. If that girl were still alive, she would indeed be about the same age as her.

Isabella Lowe noted Victoria Parker's gaze remained on Polly Song, silently clenching her fist.

Polly Song awoke to find it dark outside, yet the plane was still in the air. Stretching, she accidentally touched Victoria Parker beside her.

The first-class lights were off, and everyone else was asleep.

Turning to look at the sleeping Victoria Parker, who remained as proper as ever even while asleep, much like little Charlotte Cook, she finally discovered the genetic lineage.

Despite Charlotte and Daisy still being young with chubby cheeks, their features bore a striking resemblance to Victoria Parker, suggesting they might look similar when they grew up.

If Charlotte and Daisy turned eighteen, she would only be thirty-eight, and walking down the street with them, they might be mistaken for siblings, an exhilarating thought.

Polly Song grinned while resting her chin on her hand, watching Victoria Parker.

"Had enough staring?" Victoria Parker suddenly spoke, his voice quiet with a teasing edge.

"Who was staring at you?" Polly Song retorted softly, her argument firm. "I was thinking about the kids, not you."

As she prepared to pull back, Victoria Parker promptly pulled her into his chest, "If you want to look, you can do so openly, no need to be sneaky."

Polly Song: "..."

"If eyes could kill, you'd be dead now. I wasn't looking at you." Polly Song pushed against his chest to get up, yet his hand weighed heavily on her back, leaving her unable to move.

Victoria Parker had awoken when she did, initially just resting his eyes with her presence.

Surprisingly, she spaced out staring at him, even smiling by the end.

What was on her mind?

That little bun?

"Polly Song, let me ask you once more, are you hiding something from me?"

Unable to break free, Polly Song was forced to lean against his chest, hearing the all-too-familiar question again.

"There are plenty of things about me you don't know, all considered secrets; what, you think you're entitled to them all?" Polly Song scoffed, "Let go of me, hurry."

"Polly Song, three strikes and you're out." He'd asked her this three times already, and she chose not to take them. Victoria Parker pushed her away, adjusted his seat, his tone a bit colder.

Polly Song felt a vague unease, uncertain what he meant by that.