Chapter 63 Jordan Hands His Son to Nora

• “Say that again!?” Jordan Dawson suddenly clamped Nora Clarke’s jaw, piling fuel on the fire. Just then, hurried footsteps sounded from upstairs. “Dad!” Zayn Dawson dashed over, eyes wide, staring at his mom who’d just been scared by his dad. He had no clue what happened, but no matter what, Dad couldn’t bully Mom. “Dad, don’t be mad. Let go of Nora.” “Zayn, it’s okay, it’s okay…” Nora forced a smile, not wanting to scare her boy. Right then, Jordan drew a long breath, tamping down the anger in his eyes. He looked at Nora, cold as ice. “Don’t mess with me.” Mess with had two layers to it. Nora didn’t bother explaining. As soon as he let go, she went straight to Zayn, whose face was tight with worry. She truly couldn’t find a way to coexist with Jordan in peace. “Dad, aren’t you eating with us?” Zayn saw his dad heading out and couldn’t help asking. Last time, Dad and Mom ate with him, and it had been great. “No.” Jordan strode toward the door. At the threshold, something hit him, and he stopped, turning back. “Zayn, if you try to solve everything by throwing a tantrum, I’ll think you haven’t learned the basics of manners. You’re treating your allergies these days—take the time to reflect on what you did wrong.” Right then, the servants arrived with groceries, the hotel manager Ruth coming along. Jordan was airing this on purpose. Hearing it, Zayn lowered his head a bit and admitted, “Sorry, Dad. I got it.” Nora’s brows pinched. She felt Jordan was way too hard on Zayn, like there was no fatherly warmth at all. After that, the servants dropped off the ingredients and left. The villa’s front door eased shut. Jordan still had a wine glass in hand. He wasn’t going back in; he wanted space from Nora to cool off. Ruth couldn’t see what was happening inside, so she slid in a comment without leaving a trace. “Sir, why did you bring the young master home tonight? Shannon Durham arranged an art contest for him—pretty important. Should we send him back tomorrow so he can prep?” “Didn’t you notice Zayn’s skin allergies are pretty bad?” Jordan knew full well Ruth was his mother’s biggest claw. He’d gotten Zayn out today for two reasons: the boy wasn’t feeling well, and Shannon Durham had gone to the temple to keep a vegetarian fast. “This art contest matters a lot. Shannon’s really hoping the young master wins. If we skip it over something this small, that’d be a pity. How about I arrange Dr. Jenkins to accompany the young master? That way, he gets treated and won’t delay the contest—” Ruth didn’t finish. In a flash, Jordan smashed the wine glass, rage snapping like a whip. “Since when do you get to make plans in my house?” In that instant, every servant and bodyguard flinched, bowing low with stiff respect. Ruth hadn’t expected Jordan to blow up like that. She apologized at once. “Jordan, you’re right. I overstepped.” “Get out. All of you.” “Yes, Sir.” Jordan stood in the night, his tall frame melted into the darkness around him. To others, he was a moody, dangerous big meanie. But inside, Jordan knew he was protecting Zayn. At least right now, Nora was with him. He knew Nora would take good care of Zayn. No one would bother them—including him. Meanwhile, Nora was in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. Beside her, Zayn stuck to her like a little shadow, glued tight. “Dad’s outside. Sounds like he’s mad again.” “Zayn, ignore him. That’s his bad temper.” Nora steered her son’s attention away, smiling soft. “Help Mom call Hudson and Julia, tell them I’ll be late. I’m eating with you first, then we’ll do your meds.” Hearing that, all the built-up frustration Zayn had carried these past two days dissolved into a grin. “Okay. I should thank Hudson and Julia. They’re letting Mom’s time be all mine tonight.”