Chapter 520: Who Gave You This?

The children’s eyes widened. “My God, is that Nathan’s father? He’s so tall and handsome! Even more so than my father!”

“Nathan’s father is taller and handsomer than my father, and Teacher Fairy is more beautiful and gentler than my mother! I wish I could trade!” the children whispered, awestruck.

“Children, your parents are here. Go meet them,” Mr. Lucas urged.

Elvis took Nathan to the Rolls-Royce Phantom. Nathan sat in his car seat. “Nathan, how was school?” Elvis asked.

There was no answer. Elvis glanced in the rearview mirror, his deep eyes narrowing. He saw Nathan gazing intently at the kindergarten, seemingly captivated by something. Elvis knew his son well; Nathan was usually indifferent, yet this was the first time he’d shown such interest in anything besides programming. Elvis looked towards the kindergarten himself, but saw nothing.

“Nathan, what are you looking at?”

Nathan slowly looked away, hanging a large smiley face on his schoolbag. His expression was serious, and he carefully stroked the smiley face several times. Elvis felt ignored, as if he were invisible.

They returned to the Serenity villa in silence. Once inside, Elvis took the smiley face from Nathan’s bag. It was cheap, yet Nathan treated it like a treasure.

“Nathan, who gave you this?” Elvis asked. For three years, Nathan had been under the Augustine family’s protection, shielded from outsiders. Many women sought to marry into the family, some even attempting to use Nathan to approach Elvis. The smiley face seemed to be a woman's gift.

As Elvis reached for it, Nathan snatched it back. “Let go. Tell me, who gave you this?”

After a moment, Nathan wrote, “Teacher Fairy,” on a piece of paper.

Teacher Fairy? Elvis’s eyes narrowed. Nathan grabbed the smiley face and ran into the villa.

Outside, Elvis pressed a button on his phone. Peterson answered, “Young Master, Little Master saw Miss Hart at kindergarten today.”

“What?” Elvis’s eyebrows furrowed, his demeanor darkening.

“Miss Hart applied for a teaching position. I suspect she’s… deliberately trying to get close to Little Master. It seems he likes… Miss Hart,” Peterson added.

Elvis hung up without replying. A photo arrived—Olive and Nathan, bathed in sunlight. Olive smiled softly at Nathan, who looked at her with a mixture of shyness and affection. Elvis had never seen Nathan so… soft. His usual coldness was gone, replaced by the gentleness of a typical three-year-old.

Elvis’s lips thinned. Olive had met Nathan right under his nose. Did she know he was her son? What were her intentions? She had left and returned, disrupting their peaceful lives.

He entered the villa, heading to his bedroom. He began to unbutton his shirt, preparing for a shower, when Aunty Layla exclaimed, “Little Master won’t let me bathe him! He’s locked the door!”

A low curse escaped Elvis’s lips. “Little bastard, causing trouble again!” For three years, he’d been both father and mother. Now Olive had returned, captivating him with a simple smiley face.

He went to Nathan’s door. “Sir, he won’t open it,” Aunty Layla said anxiously.

Elvis tried the knob; it was locked. He licked his lips. “Nathan, open the door, or I’ll break it down!”

The door remained shut. Elvis kicked it open with a resounding crash. The sound echoed through the villa, carrying his cold fury. The maids in the living room glanced up nervously at the opulent surroundings.