Liam Yancey glared at him, his tone not too harsh, his handsome face slightly cold.
Four was very clever and seemed to already understand how to read the room, obstinately not crying out, showing only a face full of grievance.
"Liam Yancey, what are you doing?!" Tara Summer soothed her son by patting his back while she glared up at him, "...why are you being fierce to a five-month-old baby?!"
"Wah wah—" Tara Summer's words had just finished when the baby boy let out a loud cry, sobbing as he lay in Tara Summer's arms.
Liam Yancey frowned, then couldn't help but laugh; this little rascal was really too clever, only five months old but already aware that his mother was protecting him, so he chose that moment to burst into tears.
Was he obviously exaggerating to make his mother even angrier?!
"You little rascal!..." He snorted coldly but his hands were gently stroking his daughter's back, careful not to frighten her.
