?Chapter 1105:


    The secretary’s fists clenched in anger.


    Those people were taking advantage of Dani’s situation, pushing their luck too far.


    It was infuriating!


    Frustration burned in the secretary’s eyes, making them glossy with unshed tears.


    Dani remained unfazed. “If they want a performance, let them put on their little y. We have business to handle—let’s carry on with the meeting.”


    Outside, Jack knelt on the cold pavement, his small frame weighed down by an old, oversized backpack—deliberately chosen to look pitiful.


    The backpack was so ragged, the spines of battered books peeked through the torn fabric.


    The six-year-old boy hunched over, sobbing, his little shoulders shaking with each exaggerated sniffle.


    Onlookers, their hearts softening, offered snacks and reached out to help him up.


    But Jack ignored them all, burying his face deeper and letting his sobs grow louder.


    Fat tears rolled down Jack’s cheeks as he whimpered repeatedly, “I want Aunt Dani! I need my aunt! Aunt Dani, I’m Jack—your nephew!”


    Before he came, his grandfather and mother had drilled into him the importance of patience—he had to keep his true nature under wraps. No tantrums, no spitting, no outbursts—he had to y the part perfectly. He needed to look helpless, pitiful—just enough to stir sympathy in the hearts of onlookers.


    That way, they could squeeze Dani into footing the bill for his costly private education.


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    Jack couldn’t understand why schooling mattered when that massivepany would belong to him one day.


    But his mother had made it clear that Dani was rich, and their family nned to thrive off her fortune.


    Jack found that logic sound enough.


    But he was exhausted. His fake sobs had drained him, and he nced at thepany’s elevator.


    Where was that woman, Dani? Why hadn’t she shown up yet?


    His knees throbbed, numb from kneeling for so long.


    He scanned the crowd and locked eyes with a woman wrapped in a scarf. She sent him a silent signal.


    He understood the message. She meant, “Sweetheart, don’t stand up! Cry louder! Even louder! People will definitely sympathize with you because you’re just a child.”


    Jack forced his voice to crack, releasing a high-pitched wail. No tears, just noise.


    Joyce, watching from the side, smirked in approval.


    That was exactly what she wanted.


    Public pressure was their weapon, their ticket to an easy life at Dani’s expense.


    Dani couldn’t have kids.


    Perfect. That meant she could raise Jack instead.


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