?Chapter 3122:
“Understood.”
Back in Ontmond, one afternoon, as Savannah made her way from the family manor toward the vineyard, she spotted a familiar vehicle from a distance. It was parked at the estate’s main gate, with Ernest standing beside it.
Savannah’s gaze dropped, and without altering her pace, she continued forward.
This scene had be a daily ritual, unchanging and predictable.
Following their difficult confrontation, Savannah had reluctantly offered a single concession: Ernest could visit her daughter, Elissa, but only under her direct supervision. She felt she had no real choice in the matter. His identity as Ethan’s father was now an undeniable fact.
The situation was delicate. If Ernest were to press for custody of Ethan legally, it would unleash a storm of controversy—something Savannah wished to avoid at all costs, for everyone’s sake.
Ernest had epted her terms without argument.
The thought of forcibly taking the boy hadn’t even crossed his mind—a sign of considerable restraint, given his usual demeanor.
Yet, even with this arrangement, the time he was granted with Elissa and their son felt frustratingly brief.
Savannah had her ownmitments—business and the management of the household. Moreover, her visits to the vineyard were unpredictable; she never gave him advance notice.
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Ernest had no option but to keep watch at the gate.
He would wait by the gate from early morning until deep into the night, so he wouldn’t miss Savannah whenever she dropped by.
The moment he saw Savannah approaching now, he moved to intercept her. “Mrs. Brown.”
Savannah acknowledged him with only a nomittal hum, offering no further conversation.
They proceeded into the house in a wordless, single-file procession.
A hushed tranquility filled the main living room.
As was her routine, Elissa was upstairs taking her afternoon rest.
“Have a seat,” Savannah offered, a gesture of civility she didn’t often extend.
“Thank you.” Ernest gave a curt nod and settled into the chair opposite hers.
“Mr. Flynn,” Savannah began after taking a measured sip from her teacup. Setting it down precisely, she met his eyes with a businesslike demeanor. “When do you n to return to Srixby?”
She had spent thest few days contemting how to broach this subject calmly and directly.
The question seemed to catch Ernest off guard. He was silent for a beat before replying with straightforward honesty, “I’m not considering a return at present.”
Savannah was taken aback.
What sort of response was that?
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