This Time, I Will Get My Divorce, Mr

Then, Toby signed his name on the document with habitual grace and asked, “By the way, any word on

Carl?”

“That guy?” Disgruntlement flashed in Tom’s eyes as he answered, “He retired from the fashion industry

and returned to Westsanshire.”

“Westsanshire?” Toby had opened another folder from the stack, but upon hearing his assistant’s

answer, he paused and looked up at Tom. “When did that happen?”

“Just yesterday morning. I expect we’ll hear about the return of the real Young Master Hayes in the

business industry soon enough.”

As he twisted his pen, Toby asked, “Does that mean Carl has gone back with the intention of taking his

place as the rightful heir to the Hayes Family fortune?”

“Most probably,” Tom affirmed. “Whatever Declan has done this time in pursuit of the Hayes Family’s

fortune must have angered Carl to no end. At this rate, Carl wouldn’t stop until he’s brought down Declan

and the other illegitimate children of the Hayes Family.”

“Carl will definitely track down Declan first. Keep an eye on him because if we do, then the chances of us

locating Declan will be greater,” a somber Toby instructed.

“Why would you say that, President Fuller?” Tom pressed as he gazed at Toby in bewilderment.

As he looked up, Toby asked, “Remember the top hacker who has been helping Sonia all this while?”

“Of course I do. You’re talking about Fox Eyes, aren’t you? The one who kidnapped Tina and led the

Triforce Enterprise to lose five hundred million?”

“That’s the one, and Fox Eyes is none other than Carl himself,” Toby explained.

Tom gasped audibly. “How is that possible? We suspected he was Fox Eyes and we even looked into it,

but the investigation showed differently.”

“Hiding one’s identity and personal information is but child’s play for a hacker,” Toby drawled sardonically

as he read the document in hand.

A stunned Tom was silent for a moment. Then, he drew in a breath and found his voice again. “So, we

have played into his hands after all. Don’t worry, President Fuller, I’ll have someone keep an eye on

Carl.” Carl is a hacker, and he’ll likely track down Declan before we do. As long as we have eyes on him,

we’ll have as good a chance at finding Declan as he does.

“Alright, you’re dismissed. You can come back for these documents tonight,” Toby ordered.

Tom straightened his posture and bowed respectfully as he excused himself, “Very well, sir. I’ll be taking

my leave now.” With that, he turned to walk out of the room.

Meanwhile, at Bayside Residence, Sonia was wearing an apron as she stood at the kitchen stove with a

porcelain ladle in hand to stir the chicken chowder simmering in the pot.

A hearty bowl of chicken chowder was a product of attention and she needed to stir it while it cooked or it

would stick and crust over the bottom of the pot.

At this moment, the doorbell rang and pulled her out of her chef’s trance. She threw a quick glance at the

chicken chowder and decided that it was almost done. After turning off the stove, she walked out of the

kitchen and toward the threshold where she asked into the intercom, “Who is it?”

Charles’ voice sounded from the device. “It’s me, Sonia.”

Upon hearing this, Sonia opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Charles weighed down by

carrier bags of supplements. A smile twitched on her lips as she asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Evidently to see you and also to bring you a couple of things,” he announced. Then, he handed the

carrier bags over to her and said, “Here you go. These are all the supplements that are supposed to help

with muscle recovery. Give them a try.”

Now that she was amused by his gesture, Sonia was torn between accepting the bags and refusing

them, but she knew that choosing the latter would only prompt Charles to shove them into her hands.

Oh, whatever, I’ll just take them. “Thanks,” she responded cheerily as she grabbed the bags of

supplements.

Suddenly, Charles sniffed the air in the room. “Something smells good. Are you cooking, baby?”

“I am,” she replied as she took out a pair of flip-flops from the shoe cabinet for him. “Come on in.”

He bent over to change out of his loafers and into the flip-flops before he followed Sonia into the

apartment. After that, he rubbed his hands together greedily and mused, “Looks like I came at the right

time! So, tell me what’s for dinner today, baby.”

“There’s no menu, at least not while dinner isn’t ready,” Sonia answered as she placed the supplements

on the coffee table.

He raised a brow. “What, no dinner? Then, what’s with the delightful smell coming from the kitchen? It

smells like chicken chowder and… Is that butter? Are you making mincemeat pie?”

Visibly taken aback by his deduction, Sonia gasped. “You must have the nose of a bloodhound! You can

tell what I’m cooking just by sniffing the air?”

Charles chuckled, looking proud of himself. “Well, of course! My keen sense of smell is a force to be

reckoned with, so don’t even think about lying to me.” He wagged his index finger. “Now that I think about

it, I haven’t had chicken chowder for a while. Could you get me a bowl of it, baby?”

“Nope,” she said firmly. “I didn’t make enough to spare you a bowl of it.”

“Aw, why?” he whined, feigning dejection.

“Because the chowder’s for Toby,” she answered bluntly.

“What?” The look of mock exasperation on his face instantly disappeared as he regarded Sonia with a

serious gaze. “Baby, are you actually going to take care of him?”

“Did you think I was joking about it?”

He nodded grimly. “I really did.”