In the living room, Christopher Moore cradled the sleeping Hannah, taking a call with one hand, his dark eyes fixed on Ruby Mercer, "I'll get it done soon."
Ruby Mercer continued sipping her porridge, intentionally ignoring Christopher Moore's intense gaze, pretending she hadn't heard anything.
"Soon? Christopher, what does that mean?" Lady Moore's voice suddenly cut in, and Richard Moore's face was filled with unease, even his coughing lacked naturalness.
"Stop coughing! Honestly, I can't be bothered to talk to you father and son…" After saying that, Lady Moore continued eating snacks, focusing on her phone, constantly keeping an eye on that woman named Ruby Mercer.
...
At the press conference venue.
Ruby Mercer appeared in a white dress today, her hair loose, face showing signs of fatigue and illness, holding Alexander Mercer's hand as she walked slowly in, like an angel gravely ill, her delicate face not a trace of color, her body so slender it invoked sympathy.
