Chapter 226
"Huh?" The secretary stared, mouth agape.
Dominick repeated, "What toys did you play with at three?" He couldn't base Rena's gifts on Sonny's preferences, and Paisley was still fuming.
The secretary's shock deepened. Julian, though surprised, quickly grasped Dominick's reason: Serena had disliked today's gift.
"I don't remember much," she said, "but I had a doll that cried 'Mommy' or 'Daddy' when you tapped it. It opened and closed its eyes."
Dominick wrote this down. "Anything else?"
"Barbie dolls, clothes, bags, shoes, a Barbie house…," she rattled off, amazed at his meticulous notes. "But not all girls like dolls. My cousin loved airplane models and Rubik's Cubes."
Dominick recorded it all. Julian, witnessing this unusual behavior, scratched his head. "Is this for your daughter?"
Dominick's silence confirmed it. "Why not ask Kayla?" Julian suggested. "She's a girl."
Dominick pursed his lips. "Her childhood preferences weren't exactly…normal." Kayla, younger than Dominick, had been raised while he was under their grandfather's tutelage. His memories were scant, mostly of her unusual playthings: mud, rocks, bugs. A mud-poop birthday present, he recalled.
Julian was speechless.
Soon, an email flooded Vanderbilt Group: all departments were to report the number of employees with three-year-old daughters, and the children's toy preferences.
Julian looked from Dominick's intense study of the secretary's report to Dominick himself. Is he trying to win his daughter's favor to get with Paisley? he thought.
Then, an idea struck him. "Dom, I think your daughter would like one thing."
"What?" Dominick didn't look up.
"A handsome guy," Julian stated confidently.
Dominick's gaze sharpened. "She's three."
Julian winced. "Remember Paisley's house? Your daughter liked that good-looking guy. She even asked him to carry her."
Dominick recalled Teddy. "And at the club, she liked Nathaniel. Called him Prince Charming," Julian continued.
Dominick's face darkened. Rena’s preference for Nathaniel – calling him "Prince Charming" while glaring at him, calling him mean – stung. Now there was Max and Nathaniel.
"Am I that unattractive?" he muttered.
"No!" Julian protested, "You're scary!"
Even Julian found Dominick's frown intimidating.
"Nathaniel's still in Brightmoor, right?" Dominick asked. Max was enough; adding Nathaniel would be unbearable.
"Yes," Julian nodded. "Byron made it clear he can't return until he proves himself."
Dominick’s meaningful glance conveyed his plan. Julian understood. "I'll ensure Nathaniel's progress is slow. Besides, his siblings don't want him back either."
Nathaniel, the youngest Beaumont son, was locked in a sibling rivalry for the family legacy. The Beaumonts, excluding Nathaniel, were gathered in the parlor. The reason? A significant guest.
Byron, seated at the head of the table, surveyed his family's conflicting emotions, finding it ironic.
"I won't waste your time keeping you waiting," Byron said.
"Grandpa, this isn't a waste! Uncle rarely visits Harrowfell," Peter Beaumont, the eldest sibling, chimed in.
Tyron scoffed, envying the Vanderbilt family's simpler situation: one grandson, carefully groomed.
The butler announced, "Sir, Max Godard has arrived."
Max, impeccably dressed, approached Byron, nodding slightly. "Uncle, it's been a while."
Byron disliked Max; more precisely, he disliked Max’s adoptive father, Tyson. If not for Tyson, Byron’s youngest sister wouldn't have died so young.