My Super Sassy Dad: Stop Running Away, Mrs. Quinn!

Chapter 686: Don’t Cry

Hans Montrose had completely broken her heart, so she didn’t want to hide it any longer.Melody Thorne paused slightly with the chopsticks in her hand and exchanged a glance with Jared Quinn.

Recent events were all related to drugs; Hans Montrose was, and so was Wendy Lynch. It seemed like someone was orchestrating things behind the scenes, making it more complicated than it appeared on the surface.

Exiting the restaurant, Kiki Sutton hastily hailed a cab and fled, while Howard Seymour leisurely took out his car keys, ready to leave.

"Wait," Melody Thorne stopped Howard Seymour. "Don’t you think you’re not worthy of Kiki? She’s never been through anything, yet you’ve had countless women already!"

Howard Seymour opened the car door. "As long as she’s unwilling, I promise I won’t touch her."

He, Howard Seymour, wasn’t a rapist!

The car sped off.

"Where are we going?" Jared Quinn rolled down the car window, his handsome features sharp and clear.

"To find my dad."

Hotel.

"Where did he go?"

"Mr. Seymour left shortly after you did, apparently for something urgent," the receptionist explained.

Melody Thorne picked up the phone and dialed Howard Seymour’s number, but no one answered.

...

Inside a high-end coffee shop.

Rochelle Thorne was accompanying Sila with coffee. She ordered the most expensive one without considering its ingredients or taste.

"What kind of coffee is this?" Rochelle Thorne slammed the coffee cup onto the glass table. "I ordered the most expensive coffee, and you serve me this? What’s so bitter in it?"

"Miss Thorne, this is the most expensive we have. It might not suit your taste. Would you like to try something else?"

"What’s there to try?" Rochelle Thorne threw a stack of money from her bag. "Make it again! I want it sweet; I don’t care how your cafe does it, but you must make the coffee I want today!"

"This..." The staff were in a dilemma.

"What, is the money not enough?" Rochelle Thorne tossed another stack. "Is it enough now?"

Sila rubbed her temples in pain, probably never imagining her daughter would be like this.

She opened her eyes, pushed the window open to get some air, and her gaze suddenly fixed on a figure outside. The person was in a wheelchair, with sharp eyes piercing through the passing cars, looking directly at her. The white hair was particularly striking.

"Bang," the cup in Sila’s hand fell onto the table, and she was engulfed in shock, moving from astonishment to bewilderment, then to having past memories stirred up, her eyes reddening.

Memories rushed like the flow of traffic.

"Hans, look how beautiful our daughter is. She’ll surely grow up to be a lovely young woman."

"Hans, our daughter is about to be a month old."

"Hans, take our daughter and leave, go quickly. Don’t let the three of us die in that prophecy; they won’t spare us. Just take us and go."

Her hand clung tightly to the window, mouth agape. "Howard... Seymour."

"Mom, what are you looking at?" Rochelle Thorne looked over, but the person was already gone.

"Howard Seymour." Sila stood up to leave the coffee shop. Just then, the door opened, and Howard Seymour was wheeled in. His face was just as handsome and extraordinary as twenty years ago. Though time had marked him and his hair was white, it couldn’t overshadow his graceful presence.

Sila clutched her hands to her lips, forcing herself not to cry out.