Chapter 143

It was a high-end place with an elegant ambiance, perfect for hosting important dinners. The decor was a study in understated luxury.

Marguerite had made the reservation at the last minute, so there were no private rooms left. They had to sit in the main dining hall. The four of them took a table— Marguerite and Jenny on one side, Aaron and George on the other.

A waiter brought over the menus and glanced at the group, momentarily confused by their dynamic. There was a middle-aged woman who looked to be in her forties, a handsome and distinguished man, a stunningly beautiful high school girl, and a slender boy, also high-school-aged, with long bangs obscuring his eyes.

Probably relatives, the waiter concluded, handing the menu to the most distinguished-looking of the group. "Sir, what can I get for you?"

George accepted it with his slender, elegant hand, then passed it across the table to Marguerite. "See what you'd like."

Marguerite didn't take it. "Aaron and I are treating you tonight, so you should order!"

George didn't insist. He looked up and asked, "Does anyone have any dietary restrictions?"

All three shook their heads in unison.

A small smile touched George's eyes at the sight. His fingers, clear as fine porcelain, flipped through the menu as he ordered several dishes. Then he offered the menu back to Marguerite. "See if there's anything you want to add."

Marguerite shook her head, her almond-shaped eyes curving. "No, you picked all my favorites. You even ordered some non-spicy dishes, which is perfect since Jenny can't handle too much spice yet."

So thoughtful.

George pushed his glasses up with one finger and looked at Aaron.

Aaron also shook his head. "You ordered more than enough."

The dishes arrived one by one, and the waiter poured water for everyone.

Aaron picked up his glass, stood up nervously, and said, "Mr. Spencer, with this water in place of wine... a toast to me..."

George and Marguerite both stared at him.

George tilted his head, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

Aaron realized his mistake and slapped himself on the forehead. "Ah! I said it wrong! I mean, I offer you a toast, Mr. Spencer!"

A faint smile played on George's lips as his long fingers lifted his own glass. "Alright."

Aaron was stunned that the

philanthropic giant had no airs about

him at all. He pursed his lips and said what he'd been wanting to say. "Mr. Spencer, I am so sorry. Your foundation helped me so much bäck in the slums. You're my benefactor, and I never should have called you old."

George had already figured out on the way to the hospital room why Aaron's attitude had done a complete one-eighty. His voice was warm and pleasant. "It's alright."

Aaron was drowning in guilt. "You're not old at all! I mean, you're older than Maggie, sure, but compared to other people your age, you're really not old. I'll never call you old again, I—"

A nerve in George's temple throbbed. He clinked his glass against Aaron's. "Alright, I understand. Let's drink." He had never heard the word "old" so many times in one sitting.

Marguerite wanted to laugh at Aaron's childish apology but knew this was a serious moment, so she held it in.

Having finally gotten it off his chest, Aaron let out a sigh of relief. He drained his glass in one go and sat down.

He scratched his head and added, "Mr. Spencer, a lot of the kids in the slums are grateful to you. I'm one of the lucky ones who actually got to meet you."

George set his glass down, his dark eyes fixed on the girl across from him. "I was lucky, too. The charity work your parents did in the slums helped me a great deal."

If the little princess hadn't spoken a few extra words to him, and if her family hadn't donated so much

money to improve the food at thet

shelter he might have starved to death there. Back then, people frequently starved in the slums, and the orphanage was no different. The director, who had never paid him any mind, started making sure the other children didn't steal his food after that.

Aaron's memories of his parents were faint, as they had passed away when he was only two. He was shocked. "That really happened?"

Marguerite's eyes lit up. "You were at the orphanage there?" They had only chatted

briefly that one night, more gossip than a deep dive.

George took another sip of water, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. He nodded. "Yes. I'm very grateful to your parents, too."

And even more grateful to you.

The revelation of this shared

connection surprised and delighted

Marguerite, but a shadow of

sadness quickly passed through her

eyes. Her parents had been such

good people and then they were just... gone Them plane hat crashed into the sea, and their bodies were never found. They didn't even have a grave. Otherwise, she would have

visited them by now.

George noticed the sorrow in her eyes and instantly regretted bringing up her

parents.