Seize His Little Wife

No, she doesn’t believe it!

Even if there are subtle differences, the face is Mrs.

Moles can be added, eye shapes can be changed, and voices can be suppressed, so she is convinced that this is Mrs.

There can’t be two people so similar in this world, unless they are twins.

But Mrs. doesn’t have twins.

“You are Mrs.!” Aunt Lucy stood by that statement even after looking at Christine White’s face.

Christine White was both touched and helpless in her heart.

Touched that Aunt Lucy is so convinced that she is the Christine White of the past, helpless that Aunt Lucy is so convinced that she is afraid that Aunt Lucy will see something.

Whoever she was acting was good, but acting was acting, and in front of someone who knew you well enough, it was always going to be obvious.

“I’m sorry ah Aunt Lucy, let me tell you once again, I’m really not the wife you are talking about, I’m Christine Camp, I’m from abroad, if you don’t believe me, you can ask your family’s husband, your family’s husband is the past husband of the wife you’re talking about, he shouldn’t be able to recognize the wrong one.” Christine White kicked the ball to Baird Lane.

Baird Lane came over just in time to hear her say this, his thin lips pursed, “Aunt Lucy, she is indeed not Christine White.”

He waited in the living room for a while, and when he didn’t wait for Aunt Lucy to come in with someone, he knew that Aunt Lucy must have recognized the wrong person.

Come over and take a look, and it’s true.

“Not Mrs.?” Aunt Lucy was obviously a bit agitated when she heard Baird Lane’s words, “Sir, how can she not be Mrs., look at this face, it’s exactly the same as Mrs. ah, even if there’s something not certain, it can be changed later.”

She was convinced that the person in front of her was Mrs., but why would Mr. say otherwise?

Does Mr. Mister have to deny his wife everything just because he lost his memory?

If she remembered correctly, Mr. hadn’t forgotten the memory of marrying his wife in the first place, so how could he not remember what she looked like.

“Well Aunt Lucy,” Baird Lane wrinkled his nose, “she really isn’t Christine White, so don’t think too much about it, I’ll tell you more about it later, just come in first.”

His last few words were addressed to Christine White.

Christine White hmmm’d and smiled apologetically at Aunt Lucy again before walking into the cottage with her bag.

The two men quickly left the foyer and went into the living room, leaving Aunt Lucy standing alone in the foyer in a daze.

Not Mrs. …

No, it wasn’t right. Despite Mr.’s veto, she thought it was Mrs.

Because the feeling was the same, the feeling that Mrs. gave her was exactly the same as the feeling that this woman gave her.

Looking exactly the same and giving off exactly the same vibe, there was absolutely no way in this world that there could be such a coincidence, so the woman must be Mrs.

At the thought, Aunt Lucy squeezed her palms, resolutely deciding something in her mind, closed the cottage door and went back to the living room as well.

Just as soon as she got back, Baird Lane called out to her, “Aunt Lucy, where’s breakfast?”

“Oh, I’ll get ready to bring it out, you guys go ahead to the dining room.” Aunt Lucy gathered her emotions and gave a complicated look. Look at Christine White before returning.

Baird Lane nodded, “Let’s go.”

He told Christine White.

Christine White smiled and followed him toward the restaurant.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Baird Lane pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit.

Christine White didn’t make herself at home, and dropped into a seat.

When she sat down, she looked around, restrained the flash of emotion and nostalgia in her eyes, and asked with a smile, “Baird, is it just the two of us? Where’s Miss Bort and your daughter?”

“Ann isn’t awake yet, kids like to sleep in.” Baird Lane replied.

Christine White didn’t hear him mention Molly Bort and raised her eyebrows slightly.

He did it on purpose, didn’t he?

Molly Bort was intentionally not mentioned.

Is it that Molly Bort is already getting on Molly Bort’s case because The Lane Family has been dragging him down with the internet for the past few days?

If that’s the case, that would be great.

Baird Lane did not mention Molly Bort, Christine White also pretended not to know, picked up the water on the table and took a sip, “Children should sleep more, long body.”

“Uh-huh.” Baird Lane responded casually.

Christine White finished her water and put the glass down, “After breakfast, Baird can you show me around your cottage? I’ve come to visit, you have to let me attend to your home.”

“Could be.” Baird Lane nodded.

Christine White’s gaze fell on him, “Speaking of which, Baird you’re dressed pretty dapper today, even more so than usual, usually you’re in a suit and all sorts of accessories but you just don’t look as grand as you do today, is something good going on?”

Baird Lane dropped his eyes to hide the look in them, “No, this suit was closest to the checkroom door and came with it.”

“Is that so?” Christine White was a little unconvinced.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Baird Lane responded with a bland face, “Yes.”

“Well, I believe you now, I thought you were going to meet someone important today.” Christine White smiled.

Baird Lane didn’t say anything more, and took a sip of the water in front of himself as well.

Of course he wouldn’t tell her that the clothes he was wearing, he had picked out specifically.

Just because she was coming today, he subconsciously chose such a set.

In fact, when Aunt Lucy asked at that time, he had some regrets and wanted to change his clothes, but just now when he heard her say that he wore even more handsome clothes today than usual, he suddenly felt that he hadn’t chosen the clothes wrongly again.

“Breakfast is here.” Aunt Lucy’s voice came from behind her.

Christine White looked back and saw Aunt Lucy coming with breakfast.

She subconsciously wanted to stand up and help, but then after reacting that she was not the Christine White of the past, she calmly sat down again and did not move, and only smiled and said thank you to Aunt Lucy when she put the breakfast in front of her.

Aunt Lucy served breakfast and didn’t back down, just stood behind Baird Lane staring at Christine White.

Baird Lane was sitting right across from Christine White, with Aunt Lucy standing behind him, a position that was best for sizing up Christine White.

She looked Christine White over from head to toe several times, growing more and more convinced in her mind that she was not mistaken.

For the woman, both in height and stature, was like Mrs.

Aunt Lucy’s direct gaze made Christine White uncomfortable, and along with it, the breakfast was unpalatable.

She’d always known that Aunt Lucy was looking at her because she was still suspicious of her.

All she could say was that she admired Aunt Lucy’s persistence.

Once breakfast was over, Baird Lane took Christine White back to the parlor.

Christine White handed him the bag she had brought with her, “I picked this out after your blazer yesterday, can you see if it fits?”

Baird Lane picked the bag up and casually scanned it, not taking the dress out of the bag before setting it aside, “Since it was bought as is, it fits.”

“You’re not even wearing it, in case that’s not possible.” Christine White looked at him.

Baird Lane smiled lightly, “I trust your vision.”

“I’m kinda glad you said that.” Christine White smiled back.

That’s when Baird Lane’s cell phone rang.

He frowned slightly and held his phone out, glancing at the caller ID before apologizing to Christine White, “I’ll take this.”

“Good.” Christine White made a lightweight gesture.

Baird Lane got up with his cell phone so he could walk to the balcony.

Walking out onto the balcony, he put his cell phone to his ear, “Yes?”

“President Lane, it’s not good.” Gates’ gruff plus headache voice came over the phone.

Baird Lane sank his handsome face, “Speak.”

“The downstairs of our group was blocked, betting on dozens of people, all yelling that they were here to collect a debt.” Gates said.

Baird Lane’s temples jutted, “To a debt? To whose debt?”