Chapter 3: Chapter Three: Troublesome Children and Indulgent Parents

Indeed, the next sentence allowed Gemma Bessemer to witness the eloquence of a top-notch lawyer.

"Usually, the word 'disdain' implies that we are familiar with each other and I have negative feelings towards you or your actions. But how could I possibly disdain you now?"

The implication was clear: We are not close, and using the word 'disdain' is too much of an honor...

Gemma Bessemer nearly lost control of her expression management.

Though she was internally raging, she decided to stick with her strategy of being cute and endearing.

In front of such a powerful figure, dignity meant nothing!

After pretending to ponder for a moment, Gemma Bessemer raised her face, beaming brightly, "Channing is right, we are blood-related siblings. Saying 'disdain' would be an insult to you."

She even balled her little fists and gave them a forceful shake.

Uh...

Channing Bessemer felt, for the first time, at a loss for words.

Meanwhile, Winfred Bessemer almost burst out laughing. It was rare to see his older brother in such a predicament, which made him appreciate this little ball of energy even more.

He swatted away Channing Bessemer's hand, which was about to pinch the little one's cheek, as if protecting a chick. "Pinch what? You're no better than a child. No wonder they call you a troublemaker in the industry; you're heartless!"

Channing Bessemer calmly withdrew his hand and consoled,

"The truth can often be harsh. Just because she's only a few years old, should I deceive her kindly? People shouldn't live in a false world. I'm giving her a lesson ahead of time, which isn't bad for her. Besides, I charge by the second. She's actually making a profit today."

Gemma Bessemer wanted to jump up and down. She thought her father, the domineering CEO, would be hard to crack, but she didn't expect her big brother, the lawyer, to be even tougher.

Her eyes flickered, and she immediately put on a pouty face.

"Channing, An'an has no money. Can I wait until I grow up to show my gratitude to Channing?"

Her once clean and tidy clothes were now thoroughly soaked and wrinkled with tears and snot.

"Gratitude, my foot. Winfred will take you to buy clothes. Don't cry, An'an, be a good girl..."

Winfred Bessemer picked up the little ball of energy, shooting a warning glance at Channing Bessemer, who was about to speak.

Just then, Frederic Bessemer, who had come downstairs, heard Winfred Bessemer say they were going out. Without room for argument, he nodded at Channing Bessemer, who was sitting on the sofa sipping tea.

"Ye, drive and accompany them."

Seeing that their father had spoken, Channing Bessemer had no choice but to nod in agreement.

As the three left, a small crystal ornament on the living room cabinet moved slightly, revealing a hidden camera in the crane's eye.

At a well-known mall.

"Wow, this little girl is so pretty~ like a doll!"

"Young Master, is this your sister? She's so adorable!"

Winfred Bessemer, holding Gemma Bessemer protectively, dodged the eager hands of the saleswomen, though pride and satisfaction were evident on his face.

"Look all you want, but don't touch. My sister's skin is delicate. Don't scratch her with your long nails. Go and bring out all the new children's clothing for this young master!"

The perfume-scented saleswomen scattered, giggling, and Gemma Bessemer finally stretched her neck to catch her breath. Channing Bessemer, who wasn't good at handling such situations, excused himself to go to the restroom.

Winfred Bessemer pinched her chubby cheeks affectionately, "Hehe, I didn't expect this little ball of energy to attract more girls than my brother's dog."

"Pfft!"

Feeling used as a chick magnet, Gemma Bessemer pouted, crossing her arms, which made Winfred Bessemer burst into laughter.

"Brother needs to take a call. Be a good girl and let the pretty ladies help you try on clothes, okay?"

Winfred Bessemer placed the little ball of energy on the sofa and waved his phone at her.

Just as Gemma Bessemer picked up a crescent-colored princess dress, she felt a hard push from behind, nearly causing her to fall.

The princess dress in her hand was snatched away by a freckled little girl.

Gemma Bessemer expected the woman following the girl to scold her daughter and apologize.

Instead, the plump woman sneered at Gemma Bessemer, "When did beggars start entering high-end children's stores so easily!"

Satisfied, she took the dress from her daughter and examined it, "Good eye, darling. Come, let's try it on!"

As the plump woman was about to lead her daughter to the fitting room, the little ball of energy stopped her.

"Who are you calling a beggar?"

"I'm calling you a beggar!" The plump woman rolled her eyes, completely unaware of the verbal trap set by the little one.

Gemma Bessemer smirked, "Oh, so the beggar is calling me. No wonder your mouth stinks. Looking like a decent person but bullying a child!"

She then rubbed her nose with her little hand, full of attitude.

The stark contrast between the little one's cuteness and her sharp tongue made the saleswoman, who had rushed over worried, nearly laugh out loud.

How do I kidnap this adorable child?

Need advice, urgent.

The plump woman, accustomed to flattery, had never been mocked by a mere child. Her face turned red with anger.

"Do you have any manners, you little tramp! I'll teach you a lesson for your parents!"

She reached out to grab the little one's hair.

Hmph, asking for it.

Gemma Bessemer sneered inwardly, twisted her body nimbly, and, unseen by others, stuck out her little foot.

"Ouch!" The plump woman tripped over Gemma Bessemer's foot and fell flat on her face.

Seeing her mother bleeding, the little girl screamed and lunged at Gemma Bessemer.

To Gemma Bessemer, who had adult-level intelligence, the movements of a five or six-year-old were slow. She easily scratched the girl's face.

The plump woman grabbed a nearby hanger, "I'll beat you, you little tramp, for scratching my precious daughter's face!"

A saleswoman quickly stepped in front of the little one, coldly addressing the plump woman.

"Mrs. Austen, our store has surveillance cameras..."

Before she could finish, the plump woman interrupted arrogantly.

"Hmph, so what if there are cameras? You're just a lowly salesperson. Do you think you have the right to speak? Get out of my way! Threatening me, huh? I'll call my husband to beat you and smash your store!"

Just as she was about to make a show of taking out her phone, a cold, icy voice sounded from behind.

"Who dared to snatch my sister's dress and tried to hit her?"

Hearing this, Gemma Bessemer perked up, peeking out from behind the saleswoman and running into Winfred Bessemer's frosty embrace.

With a pitiful sob, she said, "Winfred, when you went to take a call, that auntie tried to take An'an's new dress and even grabbed a hanger to hit me."

She then showed her tender arm, pointing to a pea-sized bruise, and pouted.

"What the hell!" Seeing the bruise on the little one's arm, Winfred Bessemer's handsome face contorted in pain. He blew on it gently, looking exaggerated.

Gemma Bessemer was so embarrassed that her toes curled inside her shoes, almost creating a two-bedroom apartment.

After checking that his sister had no other injuries, Winfred Bessemer couldn't help but educate, "An'an, only beautiful people are called aunties. That one is a sow."

"Oh, I understand, Brother."

The little one nodded earnestly, as if she had learned a profound truth.

Hearing the back-and-forth mockery, the plump woman's face twisted in rage. She stood with her hands on her hips and spat, "Pah! You two bastards, born without a mother. Say that again, I dare you!"

Winfred Bessemer, whose mother had died in childbirth, could not tolerate anyone insulting her. His face filled with malice, he grabbed the woman by the collar, his voice as cold as ice.

"You, say it again, I dare you!"