Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance novel Chapter 1407

Molly hadn’t even managed to squeeze out a tear, but the real troublemaker was already bawling. “Waaah, waaah—!” Wayne joined the chorus, howling right along with her. Chad glanced over his shoulder and said, “You’re the one who hit Molly. What are you crying for?”

Wayne didn’t care. When it came to his mom, he knew the secret: strike first, ask questions later. If you waited, you’d be too late.

Later, Officer Chad, who’d promised to settle the score, just scooped his wife up and headed upstairs. “Wayne, you can come up on your own,” he called.

Wayne sprawled flat on the floor, making no move to follow. As if he was actually going to walk right now.

Molly’s foot had stopped hurting, but she wasn’t about to let on. If she kept up the act, maybe she could get out of a round of chores.

Eventually, Chad came back down, picked up his son—who apparently forgot how to use his legs—and carried him upstairs.

That left only Grandpa Hansen sitting in the living room.

“So, is it over?” he asked. No one answered. “Looks like it’s over,” he said to himself.

He got up, stretched, and muttered, “Time for a shower, a little gaming, and off to bed.”

It was shaping up to be a pretty good night—until, just as he unlocked his phone, his wayward son dropped off a wayward grandson.

Andre deposited his boy in Hansen’s bedroom and shut the door.

Henry looked up at Grandpa with those bright, shiny eyes. “Cuddle?”

Hansen just sighed.

Chad shook his head. “Molly’s tight-lipped this time. Usually, she’d spill everything without thinking, but now she’s suddenly gotten smart.”

Andre just sighed. “If you couldn’t get anything out of yours, there’s no way mine will crack. Mia’s always been sharp.”

Last night, Andre had nearly blown his top at Mia. In the end, it was her anger that put a stop to it. She wrapped herself up in a blanket and declared she was sleeping on the couch. “If I knew you’d be like this, I should’ve claimed the couch right after we got married. Why did I even bother having kids? If life’s just going to be miserable, I’d rather walk away. Now I’ve got a little tagalong at home, and I’m stuck.”

Andre tried every trick he knew—sweet talk, coaxing, even a few threats—but Mia wouldn’t budge. She knew her husband was just all talk and would never actually do anything to hurt her, so she clung to her pillow and stayed put on the couch.

In the end, Andre caved. He bent down, scooped up his stubborn wife—his favorite troublemaker—and carried her back to bed. “I just want to know where you go, Mia. What if I mess things up one day, and you leave without a word? Am I supposed to turn the whole town upside down just to find you?”

Mia curled up in his arms and smirked, “Listen, Andre. You’d better watch yourself. If you ever tick me off again, I’ll run off for a week or two. I’ll make sure you miss me so much, your heart, your liver, and every last nerve will ache for me.”