The Pampering CEO: Don't Mess With My Secretly-Married Sweet Wife novel Chapter 313

After the little episode with the cigarettes, Marshal Wright was Marshal Wright no more. He insisted on chatting the night away with Jacob and Julian, asking repeatedly about events from Susan's childhood to when she had grown up.

As they chatted, Julian served them an exquisite wine that he had been keeping. The men then complemented their chatter with the liquor.

After a few glasses, George flushed a little as he stuttered, "You guys... just wait. I'll tell Rosie tomorrow to come back to the family officially with me."

"I don't think she'll agree," Jacob said casually.

With a slap on his lap, George made a glare. "Not agreeing? That’s not for her to say. I have the last say with the Wrights. She has to listen to me... since she’s my daughter."

George's brazen but drunken words only earned him eye rolls from the rest.

It was midnight when George dragged himself to rest i n the guest room.

Despite drinking a little too much last night, Marshal Wright's circadian rhythm from years of training still woke him up early the next morning.

He pulled Oliver along to a five-kilometer run outside after having Mama Jean's hangover soup.

"This can't do, kid. Your speed seems to be slower now." George side-eyed Oliver. "I wonder if your martial art skill suffers as well?"

"We can try it out?" Oliver raised his brow.

"Oh ho, are you challenging your father?" George snickered and did a flying kick.

He was in his fifties or sixties now, but his kick packed a punch.

Not daring to take it lightly, Oliver countered with caution.

The father and son then sparred in the yard, but George was older after all, and he could barely keep up after a few exchanges.

"Heh heh, Oliver's winning.” A crisp voice rang suddenly.

George widened his eyes when he turned around. Who knew when it was, but Susan and the others were gathered at the door watching them.

It was fine to lose to his son if Rosie was not watching, but how could he lose now as a father when she was here!

George caught Oliver’s fist and said softly, "Quick, make it look like you lose."

"The Wright family motto is that one cannot goof around during a sparring," Oliver retorted just as softly.

"The family motto will be edited from this moment onward," George said without hesitation.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Dad, I have my pride to maintain too. Rosie's watching."

"Your pride, you say? Let me talk to the troop and wipe off all your ranks!" Marshal Wright smirked.

"Why are you so mean? I'm your son." Oliver was helpless.

"Try me," George challenged impassively.

To perform well in front of his daughter, his son was not important.

“Fine!” Oliver gritted his teeth. With several blunders made, he was struck with a punch on his chest from his father.

Oliver collapsed on the ground naturally while George overlooked him with a faint expression. "Oh, Oliver, you're still lacking. You’re so young, but why can't you even win against an old man like me? I only used part of my strength just now but you can’t be blamed. After all, I was indomitable in Canada when I was young. You have the power, but you lack experience. Like the punch just now, your angle wasn't right..." 1

While George was acting wise and almighty, Anna’s crisp voice rang again. "Dad, that's shameless. Oliver was so obvious when he gave in just now. Do you think we’re blind?"