Forbidden Passion
Chapter 635 The Joy of Raising Children

Evelyn had the water all set for Noomi. When Noomi burst in, Evelyn was shaking the baby bottle, trying to get that formula to mix faster in the warm water. Noomi latched onto Evelyn's leg, standing on her tippy-toes, arms stretched out, "Grandma, I'm starving!"

Evelyn handed over the bottle, "Here you go, kiddo. Chill out a bit, will ya? And next time, no more running around like a maniac, okay?"

"Okay," Noomi said, taking a big gulp from the bottle and flashing a sweet smile, "Thanks, Grandma."

Evelyn gave Noomi's head a gentle pat. Taking care of Hubert, Boris, and Noomi could be a real grind, but those little moments of sweetness made it all worth it.

That was probably what they called the joy of raising kids.

Bittersweet happiness!

Noomi dashed out of the kitchen with the bottle, almost a blur. She stumbled her way straight to the playroom.

Phoebe, worried Noomi might faceplant, got up and followed her. She watched as Noomi squeezed between Hubert and Boris, her chubby foot knocking over the little block house they had just built. Hubert and Boris were stunned for a second, then the waterworks started.

Phoebe just shook her head.

These little accidents happened all the time. At first, Phoebe would comfort Hubert and Boris, but she soon realized it wasn't necessary.

Hubert, Boris, and Noomi had this unspoken bond. Most of the time, they were more forgiving than mad at Noomi, even though she was only a few minutes younger than them.

Pamela, seeing this for the first time, rushed to comfort Hubert and Boris, encouraging them to build an even cooler and sturdier house.

Phoebe leaned against the door, watching as Hubert and Boris stopped crying and got back to building. She thought, 'A good nanny doesn't just take care of kids; she knows how to guide them too.' Phoebe was really happy with Pamela and felt a lot more relaxed.

Just then, her phone rang. Phoebe pulled it out and walked to the living room. The caller ID showed it was Noah's assistant, Alfonso Romero.

"Hey, Alfonso, what's up?"

Alfonso's voice was all frantic, with noise in the background, "Ms. Ziegler, Noah fell off the stage during rehearsal."

Phoebe's heart skipped a beat, "What? Is he hurt?"

"He banged up his forehead pretty bad, might need stitches. I'm taking him to the hospital now. Can you come over?" Alfonso said.

Phoebe's heart raced, "Which hospital? I'll be there ASAP."

Alfonso gave her the name of the hospital, the same ultra-private one they'd been to before. Phoebe didn't even bother changing clothes, just rushed to the door to put on her shoes. Evelyn heard the commotion and came out of the kitchen, still holding a spatula, "Phoebe, it's dinner time. Where are you off to?"

"An artist from the company got hurt. I gotta go." Phoebe grabbed a mask and hat and bolted out the door.

She took the elevator down to the underground parking lot, jumped in her car, and called the company, telling the bodyguards to get to the hospital fast.

Noah getting hurt was a big deal. If the media got wind of it, it would be all over the place.

She hung up, fired up the car, and zoomed out of the parking lot.

Phoebe floored it all the way to the private hospital. A bunch of entertainment reporters were already swarming the entrance, like vultures on a carcass.

Luckily, Phoebe had sent the bodyguards ahead to keep those nosy reporters at bay.

She slipped in through a side door. Her assistant, Lori, was waiting and quickly rushed over when she spotted Phoebe.

Lori said, "Ms. Ziegler, Noah needs three stitches on his forehead. Since the cut's near his hairline, they gotta shave a bit of his hair. He's throwing a fit and arguing with the doc." Phoebe frowned, "Seriously? Acting like a kid at his age?"

Lori chuckled, "Noah's gotta keep up that idol image, you know."

Phoebe asked, "How did he even fall off the stage?"

Lori's face got serious. She looked around and whispered, "Word is, a popular artist from Queen Entertainment pulled a dirty trick. When Noah was stepping off the stage, that artist pretended to lose balance and bumped into him, making him. fall and hit his forehead on some leftover iron frame."

Phoebe's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Queen Entertainment. She steadied herself, "Got it. Let's go see Noah."

They hustled over to the surgical clinic. Noah, in a black T-shirt, was leaning against the door, scrolling through his phone with a cold look on his face.

Alfonso was next to him, trying to convince him, "Noah, please get the wound treated. In this heat, it could get infected."

Noah didn't budge. When Alfonso saw Phoebe, his eyes lit up, "Ms. Ziegler, thank goodness you're here. Noah listens to you the most."

Hearing Phoebe's arrival, Noah straightened up. His nonchalant attitude vanished, replaced by a sudden obedience.

He said, "Phoebe, you're here."

Phoebe walked in quickly. Noah was a head taller than her, so she had to stand on tiptoe to see his forehead, but that didn't suit her style. "Sit down so I can check your injury." Noah pursed his lips, looking a bit arrogant, "It's not serious. A band-aid will do."

"Just sit down and stop whining. Hurry up." Phoebe almost wanted to kick him. He hit an iron frame and wouldn't let the doc treat it. Was he asking for trouble?

Seeing Phoebe mad, Noah reluctantly moved to a chair and sat down. Phoebe handed her bag to Lori, who quickly took it.

Phoebe walked over to Noah and looked down.

Noah sat there casually, his long legs stretched out. His hair almost touched his eyelashes, and the bleeding cut on his forehead was glaring.

Phoebe frowned and gently brushed Noah's hair aside, "Does it hurt?"

Noah, who hadn't felt any pain earlier, suddenly felt the wound throbbing. He nodded honestly, "Yeah."

The next second, Phoebe slapped Noah's shoulder hard, "If it hurts, let the doc treat it. You wanna keep it as a souvenir?"

Lori and Alfonso were stunned.

They watched Noah closely, only to see a faint smile on his lips.

That smile was unnerving. Was he so mad he was gonna snap back?