Chapter 399

“Who is she?”
The question came from Ruby, Peter’s youngest daughter. It turned out that tonight’s dinner included not just Donald’s family, but Jonas Bishop’s as well.
Mrs. Tess Bishop tugged at her daughter’s sleeve and whispered something in her
ear.
Ruby’s eyes widened. “So she’s the one who stole my cousin’s husband?”
Penelope’s lips twitched. This family was truly… one of a kind. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ
Mrs. Bishop frowned at the sight of her, and Yvonne slammed down her silverware. But when Donald approached, shooting them a warning look, they quickly pasted on smiles. The live broadcast camera was following him, after all.
“Please, Ms. Laurier, make yourself at home. Don’t be a stranger.”
As if to prove his point, Donald switched seats with Jonas to sit next to her.
“This taro and pumpkin dish is my specialty. You must try it.”
Donald served Penelope a piece of taro and a piece of pumpkin, then watched her with an expectant look.
Penelope’s heart clenched. This had been her mother’s favorite dish. She used to make it often, always saying she couldn’t quite get the flavor right.
Penelope took a bite, and her eyes instantly warmed. This must be the flavor her mother had been talking about.
“Is it good?” Donald asked.
Penelope nodded. “It’s delicious. Very delicious.”
If it hadn’t been for the misunderstandings, her mother might still be alive, loved and cherished by this man. She might have been spared all the suffering that followed. In that moment, beyond her desire for revenge, Penelope felt a deep sorrow for the love they had lost.
“Dad, I want some too!” Yvonne whined.
Donald smiled indulgently and was about to serve her a piece when Yvonne added,
“I want the whole dish.”
“But you never used to like
“I want it today!”
Donald shook his head. Though he disapproved of his daughter’s demanding tone, he moved the entire serving dish in front of her.
“Just eat your dinner,” he said, then lowered his voice. “And don’t cause any trouble.”
“You should be saying that to her.”
“She’s a guest.”
“An unwelcome one.”
“Quiet.”
Their hushed exchange was inaudible to the live audience, who would only see a heartwarming family moment.
Hans sat at the head of the table, chatting with the younger
generation serving them food and asking about his sons’
workDonald’s film career and Jonas’s company. The atmosphere appeared perfectly harmonious.
“Mrs. Bishop a member of the production crew interjected, “a viewer in the live chat is asking:
looking back on the nearly thirtynet
years you’ve been with Mr. Bishop. do you have any regrets about your decision to marry him?”
The question was clearly planned, a segment designed to clear up the recent rumors.
Mrs. Bishop looked at Donald, her gaze soft but firm. “I have never regretted it for a moment. I feel incredibly lucky. In our thirty years of marriage, Mr. Bishop has cared for me, respected me, and been by my side. We have a wonderful daughter, and I am completely content with the life we have.”
“And you, Mr. Bishop?”
Donald smiled at his wife. “I am so grateful for everything my wife has done for our
family over these thirty years. I often feel I haven’t done enough for her.”
“So if you could go back in time, would you still marry Mrs. Bishop?”
“Of course.”
With that, the objective was achieved. The host was about to end the broadcast when Mrs. Bishop suddenly spoke up again. “I would also like to say something to Edith, if she happens to be watching.”
The host froze. “Go… go ahead.”
…