Chapter 171

"They're just kids" Bruce raised his eyebrows, his tone sour and sharp. "They're already four years old. How can you still see them as kids? The son and mother should be separated once the son is old enough. Don't you have any common sense?"

Joanna was so angry she nearly spat out blood. She rolled her eyes. "They're only four years old! What's the big deal?"

"They're four! They're old enough! Kids these days mature early!" Bruce simply didn't want the children to be so dependent on Joanna. He felt distant from the little fellows, and unhappy as their father. He felt Joanna cared only for the children, not him.

"Alright, alright. I can't be bothered to argue with you!" Bruce snorted and turned to Lilian, a servant. "Take the children to shower!"

"Yes, sir," Lilian replied, quickly bringing two maids forward. "Davian, Irvin, let's go shower!" Lilian, a top nutritionist and professional nurse, led the Everett family's maid team and had been primarily responsible for the children's care for the past two weeks.

"Mommy, we want to bathe with you!"

Bruce's expression hardened. "Hurry up. You're big boys. You can't shower with your mother!" Joanna gently knelt to look at them. "Go with Lilian."

"Okay" The boys glanced at Bruce's sullen face and remained silent, following Lilian. Joanna stood, glaring at Bruce. "Bruce, can you not be so harsh with the children?"

"Am I harsh?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you know?"

Bruce furrowed his brow. He was gentle and careful with his daughter, appearing a loving father. But he lacked patience with his sons—no wonder they were distant.

"We're all boys. There's no need for gentleness."

"Even boys are still children! You'll scare them yelling like that."

Bruce, a 6'2" muscular man, exuded an intimidating aura and dignity. Unsmiling, he was terrifying, even more so when frowning. He felt only a little jealous, however.

Joanna, exhausted, didn't want to argue. She sat quietly on the sofa, resting her head on her hand. Bruce resentfully rubbed his nose, sitting opposite her.

Ten minutes passed in awkward silence. Most people would try to lighten the mood around Bruce; only Joanna ignored him. Five more minutes passed.

"Why are you just sitting there? Aren't you going to shower?"

Joanna didn't lift her head. "No need."

"You've been running around for two days, sweating. Who are you trying to stink to death?"

Joanna rolled her eyes, looking at him coldly. Bruce's face darkened. "Why are you looking at me? You have to go to the hospital tomorrow to see Lilia. Aren't you afraid of spreading germs?"

Joanna's eyes drooped, a flicker of life returning. She was exhausted and needed a shower.

"Alright!" She stood. Unfamiliar with the Everett mansion, she asked, "Where's the guest room?"

Bruce pursed his lips. "Follow me!"

Five minutes later, he led her to his old room, kept clean by the servants.

"Is this a guest room?"

"Why do you care? Hurry up and shower!"

Joanna reluctantly entered. "You can leave now!"

Bruce gritted his teeth, smiling bitterly before leaving. Joanna immediately locked the door, then relaxed in the spacious bathroom with its Jacuzzi and toiletries. She filled the tub, added bubble bath, and lay down. The warm water eased her fatigue. After a few minutes, she rested against the tub's edge and fell asleep.

"Click!" The bathroom door opened. Bruce walked in.

Joanna gasped, grabbing a towel. "Why are you in here?" She remembered locking the door.

Bruce snorted. "I brought you clothes!" He tossed a silk robe onto the rack.

Joanna breathed deeply, angry and anxious. "Couldn't you ask a woman? I locked the door! How did you get in?"

Bruce smirked. "I'm your ex-husband. Is there anything about you I haven't seen?"

Joanna choked, glaring. "Bruce, get out!"

"What's to hide? It's not like I haven't seen it before!"

Her cheeks burned; she was furious. Bruce began to undress.

"What are you doing?" Joanna, terrified, tightened the towel.

"It's my room. I'm showering, of course."

Her eyes reddened, trembling with rage. "Bruce, you said you wouldn't touch me! If you do this, I'm leaving with the children!"

Bruce stopped undressing. "Alright, alright, I'll leave!" He left, resentfully closing the door. Joanna's heart pounded—he clearly had a key. Fortunately, he didn't force himself on her. Too frightened to bathe, she quickly rinsed and dressed.

In the living room, the servants had prepared a lavish supper, despite Bruce's aversion to late meals. The children hadn't eaten much all day. He and the children waited at the table.

"Mommy, why are you so slow!"

"I was tired," Joanna said, glancing at Bruce, who feigned nonchalance, as if the bathroom incident was trivial. "Have some supper!"

"I'm not hungry," she replied, sitting down uneasily.

Bruce ate porridge. "You haven't eaten all day. How can your body handle it?" Caviar sandwiches, noodles, porridge, and more adorned the table. The children ate happily, their appetites unaffected by their fright. Joanna had no appetite, watching them eat in a daze, especially after Bruce's intrusion. She wanted to leave; how could she stay? Davian offered her a sandwich.

"Mommy, this is delicious!"

"I don't want to eat. You eat it!"

Davian insisted, bringing it to her lips. She took a bite, not wanting to disappoint him. Irvin poured her milk.

Joanna smiled, taking a few sips. She couldn't eat, but would drink the milk.

(The final promotional sentence was removed as it's out of place in the cleaned-up text.)