Give Up, Mr. Lawyer! This is Not Your Child-Chapter 153: Diana Sawyer

Aunt Mason looked at Jean Ellison’s still pale face and unsettled expression and took the initiative to speak: "Miss, I think you’re not feeling well today, so just rest at home. I’ll take Jesse to kindergarten; I know the way well anyway."

Jean indeed felt overwhelmed and needed some time alone to calm down, so she nodded.

"Alright, thank you, Aunt Mason."

Aunt Mason waved her hand, revealing a kind smile tinged with nostalgia.

"It’s no trouble at all. Didn’t I also take you to kindergarten every day when you were little?"

"Back then, Morgan the driver would drive us, rain or shine."

Mentioning Morgan the driver, Aunt Mason’s smile suddenly froze, and her words stopped abruptly. Her eyes dimmed.

Jean sensed the change in Aunt Mason’s emotion, especially the anomaly when Morgan was mentioned.

She asked in confusion, "Aunt Mason, what happened to Uncle Morgan later? After the Caldwell family incident, I never heard anything about him."

Aunt Mason sighed, her tone becoming low and sorrowful.

"Morgan passed away, just a few days after Mr. Caldwell jumped to his death. The police were looking everywhere to question him, but he couldn’t be found."

"About a week later, his body was discovered in a river back in his hometown in Sudland Province."

"They said he drowned. After investigating, the police concluded it was an accidental drowning, ruling out foul play."

She paused and added, "By then, you had already been taken away and locked up; you didn’t know about any of this."

Jean was stunned upon hearing this.

Uncle Morgan dead, accidental drowning.

Her father’s most trusted driver and personal assistant, with an annual salary of millions, calm and meticulous, how could he have suddenly drowned accidentally back in his hometown in Sudland Province? It seemed too much of a coincidence.

Her father had just jumped to his death, and shortly after, Uncle Morgan drowned mysteriously?

Aunt Mason saw Jean’s face growing paler, knowing she had touched on a painful subject, dared not speak further, and quickly took Jesse’s hand.

"Jesse, come with grandma. We’re going to be late for kindergarten."

Jesse obediently said goodbye to Aunt Mason and followed her out.

With the door closed, Jean was left alone in the apartment.

She slowly walked to the sofa and sat down, Aunt Mason’s words echoing in her mind.

When her father Timothy Caldwell was alive, he relied heavily on Uncle Morgan.

Uncle Morgan was ostensibly just a driver, but he was actually her father’s personal assistant, handling many confidential matters, with an annual salary in the millions, truly a confidant for her father.

Her father even joked that Miles Morgan knew more secrets than some of the company’s vice presidents.

Such a person, in the sensitive moments following her father’s sudden death, company collapse, and police investigation, suddenly returned to his hometown in Sudland Province.

And then accidentally drowned.

Was this really just a coincidence?

The more Jean thought about it, the more she felt something was amiss.

Her father’s suicide alone had many doubts, and now Uncle Morgan’s death added a layer of mystery.

She sat there, furrowing her brows, trying to piece together a coherent story from her chaotic memories and limited information, but all she found was fog, an enigma that defied understanding.

Just as she was lost in her tangled thoughts, a clear yet restrained knocking sound suddenly came.

"Knock knock."

The sound instantly jolted Jean from her reverie, and she looked over, slightly frightened.

She jumped up from the sofa, heart pounding, the first thought was that Justin Holden had returned.

She held her breath and tiptoed to the door, not daring to make a sound, nervously peering through the peephole.

Outside the door seemed to be a stranger, not very clear.

Jean pressed herself closely against the door, her palms sweating, asking in as steady a voice as possible but with caution: "Who is it?"

Through the peephole, Jean saw a young stranger standing outside the door.

He was tall, wearing a finely tailored long black coat that accentuated his straight shoulders.

The coat was open, revealing a well-fitted dark gray waistcoat and a white shirt underneath, with the collar neat, untied, suggesting a casual yet refined style.

His features were very handsome, with clear and distinct facial lines, a high nose bridge, and lips that were neither too thin nor too thick, with a chiseled jawline giving him a stern profile.

The most striking were his eyes, deep and dark, calmly looking in the direction of the door, his gaze sharp yet not offensive, instead exuding a sense of steadiness.

Standing there, he naturally exuded the competence and confidence of a business elite, also possessing an innate gentlemanly demeanor.

Jean hesitated for a moment but eventually opened the door, though her body instinctively blocked the entrance, asking warily: "Who are you looking for?"

The man outside saw Jean, a flash of quick surprise in his eyes, but he quickly returned to his composed self.

His gaze paused politely on Jean’s face for a moment, then nodded slightly, his voice deep and pleasant, with just the right amount of courtesy.

"Hello, I’m looking for Mrs. Megan Mason, who resides here."

He mentioned Aunt Mason’s name exactly.

Jean, hearing he was looking for Aunt Mason, relaxed her guard slightly, but still did not fully step aside.

"Yes, Aunt Mason lives here. But she’s out now, not home. I’m her guest."

The man nodded, indicating understanding. His gaze briefly swept through the simple furnishings inside, then refocused on Jean, his tone still gentle.

"I see, may I ask who you are?"

"My name is Jean Ellison. I’m a distant relative of Aunt Mason’s."

Jean Ellison carefully chose her words, not revealing too much.

The man’s handsome face showed a faint smile upon hearing her.

"Hello, Miss Ellison. I’m Dylan Sawyer, Megan Mason’s son."

He introduced himself, his demeanor natural and gracious.

Jean was genuinely surprised this time.

Since childhood, she knew Aunt Mason had a son in the United States, an outstanding individual. Her parents, Timothy Caldwell and Susan Kingston, had even sponsored his education from high school through his doctorate.

In Aunt Mason’s depiction, he was a brilliant and talented child.

But she had never met him in person and didn’t expect him to be this exceptional young gentleman standing before her.

Dylan Sawyer noticed her surprise, smiled slightly, and explained, "I spend most of my time abroad and rarely return to the country, so it’s normal that Miss Ellison hasn’t seen me."

His clear and sincere eyes lacked any unnecessary scrutiny or distraction when looking at Jean, only pure politeness and a touch of respect for his mother’s guest.

"Oh, it’s Mr. Sawyer," Jean stepped aside to clear the passage. "Please come in, Aunt Mason should be back soon."

Dylan thanked her and stepped into the apartment.

His steps were steady, the hem of his trench coat swishing in a smooth arc as he moved.

He stood in the center of the living room, tall and straight, not sitting down casually, but instead looked at Jean again with sincerity in his voice.

"Miss Ellison, thank you for spending time with my mother recently."

"She’s alone here, and I’m busy with work, unable to visit her often, so I’ve always been concerned. Having you with her makes her much happier."

Jean quickly waved her hand, "Mr. Sawyer, you’re too kind. It’s me who should thank Aunt Mason for kindly taking me in, I’m the one imposing."

Dylan Sawyer’s gentle gaze fell on Jean, and he asked, "Is Miss Ellison planning to stay here long-term?"

At his words, Jean felt a sudden unease, thinking he might mind their long-term stay, and hurriedly explained, "No, we won’t be staying long. It’s just a temporary place to stay, and we’ll move out once we find suitable accommodation. We won’t trouble Aunt Mason for long."

However, Dylan shook his head with a slight but sincere smile.

"Miss Ellison misunderstood my intention. I was hoping, if convenient, you could stay as long as possible."

"My mother is getting older and enjoys having company. Having someone around to talk to is a good thing, and I’m very grateful you can stay with her."

At that moment, there was the sound of keys turning at the door, and Aunt Mason came back after dropping off Jesse.

As she opened the door and saw Dylan standing in the house, she was momentarily surprised and then beamed with joy.

"Why did you suddenly come back without saying anything beforehand?"

She hurried in and, seeing Jean standing with her son, quickly took Jean’s hand warmly and introduced her to Dylan, "Dylan, I didn’t have a chance to tell you, this is Miss Caldwell, Claire Caldwell, though she goes by Jean Ellison now. Do you remember? I often mentioned to you, the daughter of Mr. Caldwell."

At the mention of Claire Caldwell, Dylan Sawyer’s gentle and polite smile froze instantly.

His deep gaze fell on Jean once more, still maintaining basic politeness but with a complex emotion in the depths of his eyes.

He slightly furrowed his brow.

Claire Caldwell.

The name was all too familiar to him.

Not just from his mother’s mentions, but in recent years, especially after the Caldwell family’s downfall, this name frequently appeared in business and social news, often accompanied by extremely negative terms.

Fraud, massive deficits, disaster relief supplies, many villagers dead.

Rumor had it this Caldwell family heiress played a less-than-honorable role in these events.

Jean instinctively lowered her eyelids, ready to endure any possible coldness or alienation from him.

However, to her surprise, Dylan merely remained silent for two seconds before the subtle frowning lines swiftly relaxed.

Not only did he not display any aversion or rejection, but he stepped forward slightly, solemnly extending his right hand to her.

His palm was broad, his fingers long and strong, with nails cut neatly.

"Miss Ellison," Dylan’s voice regained its earlier steadiness, even carrying a new layer of sincere gravity, "regardless of external rumors, my mother and I, Dylan Sawyer, will always remember the kindness Mr. Caldwell and the Caldwell family have shown us over the years."

"Without Mr. Caldwell’s support and trust back then, I wouldn’t have what I have today. I won’t forget this bond."

Meeting Jean’s somewhat astonished eyes with a straightforward gaze, he continued, "Please feel free to stay here, it might be simple, but it’s safe. If you need anything, you can directly tell me or my mother."

"Consider this place your home, without any worries."

Dazed, Jean looked at his outstretched hand and then raised her eyes to his calm yet firm face, emotions churning within her.

The expected embarrassment didn’t appear; instead, it was replaced by the warmth of being respected and treated with kindness, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hesitating for a moment, she finally reached out and lightly shook Dylan’s hand.

His hand was warm and dry, imparting a reassuring strength.

"Thank you, Mr. Sawyer."

Jean’s voice choked with emotion, yet it carried more relief and gratitude.

Aunt Mason watched this unfold, her own eyes growing moist, and quickly wiped the corners with the back of her hand, smiling to lighten the mood.

"Alright, alright, we’re all family here, no need for such words. Dylan, have you eaten yet? I’ll cook something for you."

Dylan released his hand and smiled gently at his mother.

"Mom, no need to bother, I already ate at the company."

His gaze turned back to Jean once more, his tone calm.

"Miss Ellison, settle in first. I’m staying in New York too, so if you need anything, feel free to reach out to me."