Helena lifted her tiny head, her beautiful, youthful eyes sparkling with curiosity as she gazed up at Alaric. In that split second, her eyes shimmered with awe at the sight of Alaric's features, and in her sweet, mushy voice, she said, "Mister, you're so handsome. My mommy likes pretty people."
Alaric, who had just been concerned about whether he'd accidentally bumped into the little one, couldn't help but melt at the sight of her chubby, squishy face, as adorable as a freshly baked bun. Her voice tugged at his heartstrings, instantly soothing the irritation that Georgia had stoked in him.
The girl’s eyes, reminiscent of his own, struck a chord within him.
This resemblance stirred something deep within Alaric's soul.
He took Helena's hand and walked her over to the elevator bank, where he crouched down to her level, softening his voice as he spoke, "Kiddo, thanks for saying I look nice. What's your mommy's name? Are you saying your mommy prefers pretty people over your daddy?"
Alaric's brow furrowed in puzzlement. Considering the girl’s looks, her parents must have some impressive genes. How could her mom not cherish the father of her children and instead fancy other handsome men?
"My mommy, she's called..."
"Sir, I'm so sorry. My little one bumped into you. Please accept my apology on her behalf; children can be quite mischievous."
Helena, about to reveal that her mommy was called Hertha, was interrupted.
Aunt Thalassa always referred to her mommy by that name.
Bridget stepped forward, lifting Helena into her arms, and apologized profusely to Alaric.
Hearing Bridget's voice, Alaric looked up to see a middle-aged woman cradling the little girl who had collided with him, her words brimming with regret.
It seemed this child belonged to her—a stranger's child.
For some unknown reason, a hint of disappointment flickered in Alaric's heart. He stood up, assuring Bridget, "It's fine. She's just a child. But you should keep a closer watch on her. If she runs into an elevator alone, it could lead to trouble."
"Yes, yes, of course. Thank you for the reminder, sir. I'll be sure to keep a closer eye on her from now on," Bridget said, nodding eagerly, taking his advice to heart.
Alaric's gaze lingered once more on the little girl in Bridget's arms. She was adorable, with pudgy cheeks and innocent, endearing eyes. Perhaps it was their shared feature that made Alaric feel connected to her.
But despite this connection, she was someone else's child.
Snapping back to reality, Alaric was about to take his leave when he caught a glimpse of a little boy standing next to Bridget. The boy appeared to be about the same age as the girl, and he too bore a striking resemblance to Alaric.
A chord struck within Alaric, and he asked Bridget earnestly, "Are both these children yours?"
Bridget quickly reached out to hold Julian's tiny hand and replied with a simple honesty, "Yes, they're twins—our pride and joy. Their mom and dad are quite attractive, so they've turned out to be quite the cherubs."
Just then, Thalassa emerged from the hospital room, intending to fetch some hot water. As she stepped out into the corridor, she saw Bridget with the twins, engaged in conversation with a man.
And that man was Alaric!
Good heavens, Bridget had unwittingly brought the twins face to face with Alaric!
Julian and Helena were Alaric's own flesh and blood! If Alaric recognized the children...