Capítulo 6: Chapter 6
A cruel smile appeared on his handsome face as he slowly said, "Whether you can stay by Jason's side as a nanny is also one of the important criteria for acceptance by the lady of the house."
Blanchie felt a surge of anger, her expression turning cold. "Didn't you say something different last night? You didn't mention any assessments!"
Seeing her finally show some anger, Allen's smile deepened with mischief. He leaned down to Blanchie's ear, speaking in a low voice meant only for her: "What a man says in bed can't be taken seriously, can it?"
Blanchie was so furious that she nearly spat blood. Unable to hold back, she lifted her foot and stomped hard on his.
Leslie observed their interaction with a composed and dignified smile, slowly saying, "Miss Blanchie, let's go."
After she spoke, she walked ahead.
So no one saw the fierce and terrifying jealousy swirling in Leslie's eyes as she turned her face away.
Blanchie couldn't refuse and had no choice but to follow.
The two of them got into the car, and the driver took them to the bridal shop.
Leslie had booked the entire place, and the whole shop was open just for her.
Once inside, the store manager brought out the most expensive wedding dress for her to try on.
Leslie didn't try it on immediately. Instead, she raised her eyes and looked at Blanchie, slowly saying, "Miss Blanchie, this wedding dress is called 'Eternal Love.' It is adorned with a total of 990 diamonds, all hand-set, valued at over 30 million dollars."
Blanchie showed little interest and nodded perfunctorily.
However, Leslie suddenly shifted her tone and handed the wedding dress to her, saying, "Why don't you try it on for me?"
Blanchie didn't reach out to take it and replied calmly, "Trying on wedding dresses is a serious matter that should be experienced firsthand. I won't do it for you. Miss Leslie, you should do it yourself."
Leslie was very pleased with her perceptiveness. She smiled slightly, withdrew the dress, and her tone suddenly turned cold as she said, "I knew it. Miss Blanchie is a smart person. If it's not yours, don't covet it—people are the same. After all, even if I let you try it on, you still can't afford it, and it will never be yours. Why bother, right?"
Her words were laced with provocation.
Despite being of similar age, Blanchie felt that Leslie had the emotional maturity of someone at least ten years younger.
She was just a jealous little girl.
As a mother herself, she really didn't want to waste her breath on her if it weren't for Jason.
Blanchie nodded, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes, and said, "Miss Leslie is absolutely right."
Such a woman, Blanchie found it hard to believe she could raise Jason well.
Therefore, she had to take Jason away.
By any means necessary, at all costs.
Leslie was satisfied with Blanchie's reaction and happily tried on several wedding dresses, with Blanchie dutifully complimenting her.
It wasn't until evening that the two women returned to Allen's villa.
Allen had just gotten off work and was taking off his coat, handing it to the servant.
He had a great physique—broad shoulders and a narrow waist, with a fitted shirt revealing well-defined muscles.
Leslie's gaze lingered on him, not wanting to look away.
In contrast, Blanchie didn't even look up and directly asked, "Where's my son?"
"He's upstairs playing with blocks," Allen replied, lifting his eyes, his gaze dark like ink. "So, how did the dress fitting go?"
Leslie smiled and said, "It went well. Miss Blanchie is very professional and offered a lot of advice. I really liked it."
Upon hearing this, Blanchie casually added, "Not at all. It's because Miss Leslie looks good and has a great figure, so she can pull it off."
After a pause, she said, "I won't bother you any longer. I'll go check on the child."
Then, without even furrowing her brow, she went upstairs.
Allen's expression remained calm and indifferent, but his tightly clenched fists betrayed him.
His hands were clasped behind his back, knuckles turning white, veins bulging, and even his temples throbbed uncontrollably.
As Blanchie stepped onto the stairs, Allen suddenly spoke in a cold tone, "Leslie, it's getting late. Why don't you stay over tonight?"
Leslie's eyes lit up with excitement as she gazed at him and softly asked, "Wouldn't that be inconvenient?"
Allen swallowed hard and replied in a deep voice, "You'll have to get used to it eventually."
Leslie beamed with a big smile and said, "Then I'll cook some of my best dishes myself."
Unfortunately, Blanchie couldn't hear the rest of the conversation. Allen suddenly lost interest.
He loosened his tie and said, "Forget it, let's go out to eat."
After Blanchie went upstairs, she heard the sound of a car starting from downstairs. She seized the opportunity, avoiding the servants, and quietly discussed her plans with her son.
Meanwhile, Allen and Leslie arrived at the dining room and sat across from each other.
The intimacy and familiarity between them had vanished, replaced by a strange sense of distance.
"Allen, you said that as long as Miss Blanchie doesn't object, you would give me a chance. Is that bet still valid?" Leslie asked softly.
Allen furrowed his brow and remained silent.
Leslie felt a bit anxious and pressed on, "Allen, Miss Blanchie has already let you go. It's time for you to start a new life. If it weren't for me helping you navigate this, you wouldn't have escaped the Smith family's marriage pressure until now. You promised to give me a chance to take care of you—"
"Enough," Allen coldly interrupted her, his expression emotionless. "Don't act so wronged. We're just using each other. Haven't you received enough contracts from me?"
He paused for a moment, his face stern, and continued, "Let's set the wedding date for three days from now and send a message to the media."
Leslie bit her lip, her expression filled with disappointment, her sharp nails digging into her flesh.
She knew that this wedding was merely Allen's last struggle; he was forcing Blanchie's hand.
But she wouldn't let him have his way.
Allen was hers!
All of this was unbeknownst to Blanchie.
That evening, she prepared dinner for herself and her son as usual. After they finished eating, she tucked her child into bed.
Looking at her son's peaceful sleeping face, her heart softened. She kissed his little face and lay down beside him.
However, shortly after turning off the lights, she suddenly heard the sound of a key in the lock.
Just as Blanchie was about to get up, a body reeking of alcohol collapsed onto her.
Blanche was taken aback and quickly pushed him away, but Allen pressed her hands above her head.
"Are you crazy? The child is here!" Blanche whispered angrily.
Allen, having had quite a bit to drink, reflected her anger in his eyes.
"All you think about is him! Only him! Only him—" Allen's voice was hoarse, filled with jealousy.
As soon as he came back, he was looking for that brat, and he only cooked for him! He wouldn't even spare a glance for her!
What was this? Was she raising someone else's child?
Without him, could that brat even have been born?
Blanche had no idea who this "him" he was talking about was; she was only focused on not waking the child.
But since Allen was acting crazy from the alcohol, she had to bring up Leslie. "Didn't you leave Miss Leslie here for the night? Is this really okay?"
Mentioning Leslie only darkened Allen's already grim expression.
Ignoring everything, he lowered his head to seek out Blanche's lips.
Blanche's heart raced, and she quickly struggled to block his lips, whispering, "Are you drunk? Can you wake up? The child is here!"
Her voice was filled with exasperation, yet she didn't dare raise it.
Allen wanted to provoke her further and leaned down to kiss her.
Blanche had no choice but to compromise, leaning closer to his ear, speaking softly and soothingly.
Sure enough, Allen was swayed by her words.
The battlefield shifted to the master bedroom.
After a tussle, Allen sobered up somewhat, but Blanche was fighting to keep her eyes open.
She wanted to just fall asleep, but Allen deliberately held her eyes open and said in a deep voice, "In three days, I'm getting married."
Blanche responded perfunctorily, "Well, congratulations. Miss Leslie is a good match for you, and I'm sure your mother will like her as a daughter-in-law."
This remark made Allen furrow his brows.
He almost instinctively asked, "Have you met my mom?"
When he was married to Blanche before, he had claimed to be a poor kid without parents, and his mother had never come to New York. Why would Blanche say that?
However, Blanche was so tired that she didn't want to continue the conversation. She mumbled, "I'm going to sleep. Unless the baby cries or there's a fire, don't wake me—"
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