The nanny brought tea and poured it for Trenton Smith and Zoe Smith.
Despite the lack of resemblance between mother and son, they both bore a distinctive air of quiet melancholy. One glance was enough to know they were bound by blood.
Zoe Smith rarely left home and was aging gracefully. She looked closer to her forties than her age, radiant in her fifties.
With her full crop of white hair and youthful features that still echoed her past beauty, one could easily imagine her alluring charm during younger years.
Trenton did not drink his tea, instead, he leaned against the couch and calmly gazed at his mother: "Did you tell dad about the basement?"
Zoe Smith held her teacup and lowered her head before sipping the warm liquid. She replied indifferently: "Yes."
Trenton nodded, then stood up from the couch and turned to leave.
Zoe Smith put down her tea and icily asked: "Did you come today just to ask about this?"
