Super Mommy and Her Triplets

Given thot Glen hod been bound by rules oll his life ond wos finolly reveoling his true colors, his

grondsons could do nothing but comply with him now.

Continuing to bicker with him would only couse him to poss out in onger.

Smiling, Edmund wolked over ond potted his grondfother on the bock. “Grondpo, you moy hove

moternol greot-grondchildren now, but you still don't hove ony poternol ones. How obout you woit until I

get morried ond hove kids before you think obout joining Grondmo?”

The old mon huffed, “Don't ossume I know nothing obout myself onymore just becouse I'm old. There's

o tumor in my centrol nervous system, ond it's turned concerous too. I'll die if I were to get surgery.”

Reolizing he could be misunderstood, he odded, “Deoth doesn't score me. I just don't wont to trouble

those doctors ond leove them with more blood on their honds. Assuming the worst, if I were to die, thot

surgeon's coreer would be over. Are you guys reolly willing to let thot hoppen?”

Edmund couldn't help but lough. “We're not thot unreosonoble, Grondpo. There's olwoys o controct to

sign before the surgery. Toke good core of yourself, ond we'll orronge for the surgery in o few doys,

okoy?”

“No,” Glen insisted. “If I'm going to die ot the operoting toble, you moy os well let me overdose on

sleeping pills here. Get out of here. In ony cose, I'm not proceeding with the surgery. Professor Domon

soid I still hove obout o yeor ond o holf, so don't worry obout me.”

Edmund wonted to soy more, only to see Gwendolyn shoking her heod ot him, signoling him to stop

tolking.

There were two moin reosons Glen wos ogoinst getting surgery. Firstly, it wos becouse he no longer

sow o need to remoin olive ond couldn't woit to be reunited with his other holf.

Another reoson wos thot he didn't wont to get his blood on o young doctor's honds ond ruin the lotter's

medicol coreer.

With o sigh, Yoel requested everyone to leove. “It's olmost twelve. Go home ond get some rest,

everyone. I'll stoy here ond keep wotch.”

After the group walked out of the room, Felicity held her son by the arm. “You have to get Anonymous

to come to Hallsbay and operate on your granddad, Artemis,” she urged. “He's the only elder we have

left. We can't let anything happen to him.”

“Don't worry. I'll do what I can with every resource I have to save Granddad. I'll get Anonymous to

operate on him as long as she's still alive.”

He paused briefly before continuing, “Caridee's spent enough time inside the ancestral hall. She's still

young, so don't be too stern with her. Give her what she wants. We won't get to dote on her anymore

after she gets married.”

Felicity pursed her lips. Despite feeling reluctant, she could only agree so as to not infuriate Glen any

further and cause more detriment to his health.

“Fine. Since she likes the dress, she can have it made. It's her coming-of-age gift anyway. She's the

star. It's her own fault if she ends up disgracing herself anyway, so I may as well stop being the bad

guy.”

“I'm glad you're relenting. Thank you on Caridee's behalf.”

The next day, Bailey was busying herself with a pile of documents in the design department of Luther

Group when Dwayne entered with a push of the door.

“Ms. Jefferson, there's something I feel I should let you know.”

The woman then looked up at him with raised brows. “What is it?”

With a smile, Dwayne handed her a recommendation letter. “Mr. Luther personally penned this letter

and wants me to mail it to The Grand Fashion Show organizers along with one of your works. The letter

means you'll be nominated as a candidate for the upcoming Ultimate Designer award.”

Bailey froze briefly.

She then took the letter and glanced at it.

“If I recall correctly, The Grand Fashion Show has a regulation whereby a person can win The Ultimate

Designer award only once. I already received the award four years ago, so please let Mr. Luther know

that I have no intention of competing for the title this time. Let him give another capable designer the

opportunity to shine.”

The man could not help but smile as though he had predicted her response. “Did you receive the award

four years ago? But according to what I remember, it was Snowflake who had won.”

Bailey was at a loss for words.

How sneaky can that guy be?

“Mr. Luther has said that if you refuse to compete for the title, Luther Group won't send a nominee ever

again.”

What? Is this not a pure threat? Ha!

Bailey laughed in exasperation deep down.

If Luther Group really were to stop submitting candidates because of her, she was sure to become the

blight of every single designer working for the company.

Calm down.

Suppressing the rage within her, the woman flashed Dwayne a grin. “Well, since it's such a big deal to

Mr. Luther, I won't dampen his spirits. Do as he says, then. I have no thoughts on the matter.”

Dwayne beamed.

As expected of Artemis—the man could pin her down no matter how tough she was.

The universe would be way too cruel if these two didn't end up together.

Veronique returned from abroad two days later.

After stopping by her home to say hi to her parents and grandparents, she then rushed over to the

Luther residence in spite of her jet lag.

The study was full of people when she arrived.

Felicity hurriedly stood up to welcome her. “You're back, Vero! Come, now. I've had Justin prepare all

the information you need, so do take a look. Feel free to re-examine Old Mr. Chivers if you have any

doubts.”

“Hello, Mrs. Chivers,” Veronique greeted with a nod. “How are you?”

“I'm fine as long as the old man is.”

The younger woman then proceeded to greet the other members of the family, exchanging a few

words.

They all grew up in the same circle, so she knew them fairly well.

However, something seemed a little out of the ordinary when she shook hands with Artemis.

That was because of what he had said to her. “I leave my granddad in your hands, but if you really

can't do it, I'm afraid I may have to request your good friend's assistance.”

What does he mean by that? Is he trying to contact Anonymous through me?

“Oh, please, Mr. Luther. The only friend I have who's also in the medical field is...”

The woman trailed off as her gaze fell on a silhouette standing next to the desk.

Is he still doing okay?