All Chapters of His Dad Calls Me Baby: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

"Ten minutes."Alexander looked up at Gerald's ashen face."In ten minutes, the Scorched Earth Plan goes into full effect.""All assets under your name will be frozen simultaneously. The audit reports on every irregular transaction Knight Group has made in the past thirty years will land on the desks of the relevant regulatory agencies."He deliberately slowed his words. Each one aimed at the reputation and foundation Gerald valued most."By tomorrow morning, you'll be invited in for questioning.""The Knight family's century of honor, which you hold so dear, will rot and become a laughingstock by sunrise.""You—!"Gerald's withered fingers trembled. His cane clattered to the floor."This is all I have left... my name..."His voice cracked. His eyes were bloodshot."Can't you leave me that?!""No."Alexander's answer was clean."I've lived this long to send you to hell on earth."

I cried in his arms for a long time. All the fear, the hurt, the missing him—everything I'd been holding in—poured out.Finally, I ran out of tears. My nose was red. My voice was hoarse."When can I take this stupid thing off?""In such a hurry?"I nodded."Talking to you with this on? It's like trying to figure out an elephant blindfolded. No sense of participation!""Wait."He let go of me and stood up.He walked to the wall and dimmed the already faint wall lamp even more, until the light was as soft as gauze.Then he came back to the bed. His fingers found the knot behind my head. He loosened the black sleep mask."Open your eyes slowly."The darkness faded. At first, everything was blurry. Then it came into focus.The first thing I saw was Alexander, backlit by the soft glow.Light flooded in. I squinted instinctively.It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Then I coul

Alexander Knight turned and walked toward me.His pace was steady, his presence filling the small room with a suffocating, aristocratic authority.The wall lamp cast sharp shadows across his face, making his molten eyes look even more predatory."What do you think?"His voice was a low, vibrating rasp.He walked to the cabinet, pulled open a drawer, and took out a medical absorbent pad.He smoothed it over the center of the bed with a slow, deliberate motion.The stark white sheet looked like a target under the dim light.My face burned.I pointed at the pad, my voice trembling."Alexander! What the hell are you doing with that?""I have no intention of letting us get the hospital bed dirty, Lisa.""You..."Before I could finish, he was looming over me.He backed me against the headboard, his massive frame pinning me down.With an elegant flick of his wrist, the buttons of my pajamas were undone, one by one.

The dust had finally settled.L.A. Strategic was gaining momentum, and the power structure of the entire New York elite had been irreversibly reshaped.Sunday morning. The master suite at Sandalwood Palace.Alexander had me pinned against the headboard, my legs draped over his broad shoulders as he drove into me with a relentless, rhythmic fury.Every thrust was deep, intentional, and primal. The thick heat of him filled me completely, stretching me until I could only sob his name into the quiet room.He was not the restrained, stoic tycoon right now. He was a predator. His large hands gripped my hips, bruising my skin as he bottomed out inside me, his frantic pace pushing me toward a jagged, screaming edge.I arched my back, my fingers digging into his biceps, feeling the sweat slick between our pounding chests until the world shattered into a thousand blinding sparks.Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, dancing in the air where the

Dusk had settled over the city by the time we left the hospital.Alexander didn't summon the driver. He slid into the driver's seat himself, his face a mask of brooding silence. He was heavy with a mood I couldn't quite peel back, a darkness that seemed to swallow the light in the car.I didn't push him with words. Instead, I reached over, my fingers tracing the back of his hand where it rested on the gear shift. I lightly grazed his palm, a silent tether.He didn't pull away. He flipped his hand over, lacing his fingers through mine and squeezing so hard it was almost bruising.We didn't head back to Sandalwood Palace. He steered the car onto the winding mountain roads on the outskirts of the city.High up on the ridge, tucked away from the prying eyes of the elite, was a private bistro glowing with warm, amber lights. We ate in a quiet booth—simple, clean flavors, but the air between us was thick with things unsaid.By the time we wa