Crossroads

"Let go of me." It was the fifth time she yelled at him, but the man in front of her stubbornly held onto her wrist, refusing to let go. Stephanie was so furious that she almost wanted to take advantage of his illness to give him a good beating

"Dominick, I'm just getting a thermometer and some fever medicine. I'm not running away." She emphasized, her expression complex.

But he acted as if he didn't hear her.

She continued, "Hey, you're heavy. Stand on your own Don't lean on me. Dominick, don't think I won't get mad. Ah! Don't lean your big head on me. Your stubble is prickling my neck. It's itchy. Get off me, get off"

Then he rasped out a low, hoarse reply. "You're noisy Stephanie was exhausted, both physically and mentally. This cold-hearted man only knew the bed.

ew how to torment her. Finally, she managed to drag him to With a bit of spite, she shoved his heavy body onto the bed. Just looking at him made her angry.

If he weren't sick, she would've gone to the bathroom to fetch a basin of cold water to drench him. How infuriating!

The man on the bed lay still on his side. Stephanie frowned and moved closer.

Dominick was tall and broad-shouldered, making her 6-foot bed seem insufficiens. His hair was disheveled, his eyes closed, and his usually stern face looked less intimidating. His straight nose and dry, thin lips were noticeable, and as she got closer, she could feel his slow, hot breath

"Ever since his surgery, he hasn't fallen ill. Who knows where he's been wearing himself out? Serves him right," she muttered.

Stephanie looked at his haggard face, her feelings complicated. Especially seeing his furrowed brow, she guessed he had a headache.

She removed his leather shoes and jacket, then took her velvet blanket to cover him. Her gaze paused on the belt around his waist.

Undoing a man's belt was quite suggestive. Who knew how many women had undone his belt?

With mixed emotions, Stephanie expressionlessly undid his belt. There were so many people he could bother, yet he had to come to bother me. Her resentment grew.

my house to She roughly draped the blanket over him, accidentally brushing against his burning skin through the luxurious silk shirt, feeling how feverish he Stephanie felt conflicted. She hated him, but she was softhearted.

She took a thermometer to check his temperature.

Five minutes later, Stephanie stared at the thermometer, which was 1022 degrees, her face serious, She was always cautious about high fevers, even a bit scared, because Oscar had once had a fever over 104 degrees when he was a child and became nonverbal for years. Ever since she believed high fevers could have severe impacts.Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

She placed a cooling patch on Dominick's forehead and several on his neck. Finding some alcohol and cotton balls, she skillfully soaked the cotton and prepared to undress him to cool him down.

But to her frustration, Dominick was not very cooperative.

"Straighten your arm and take off the shirt. Stephanie tugged hard, but even sick, he was heavy and stubborn. His shirt was stuck under him, and she could only get it halfway off.

Glaring at his sleeping profile, she reluctantly set down the alcohol-soaked cotton from her other hand, climbed onto the bed, and tried to pull the shirt out bit by bit But whether by chance or intent, as soon as she got on the bed and barely found her balance, he wrapped both arms around her, and pulled her into his embrace tightly. Soal*th the Findlovel.let website on Gøøgle to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"Hey! Her soft skin pressed against his firm, muscular chest, and her cheeks turned red from his exuded warmth. Despite being ill he was still strong. Now, he clung to her like a koala, leaving Stephanie in utter despair.

"I'm telling you, if you don't let go, I bite you. Dominick, your brain will get fried if your fever doesn't go down, she whispered in his ear, first warning him, then trying to reason with him, but it was no use, Dominick held her tightly like a human pillow as if it eased his feverish discomfort. Stephanie was extremely uncomfortable, trapped in his strong Chapter 019

arms, and he had a bad habit. He buried his stubble face in her neck, making her skin itch, Stephanie was terribly ticklish. And yet, he seemed to have fallen asleep.

The long night was an ordeal for Stephanic Molly slept deeply as if she hadn't had such a comfortable rest in ages.

Around midnight, she was abruptly awakened by some noises.

Living alone for so long had made her particularly alert at night. Groggy and still piecing together the day's events, she felt a chill as she lifted the blanket Oh, she was down to just her underwear. She never slept in the nude.

But there was no time to worry about that. Molly quickly threw on a bathrobe. She was on high aler was on high alert as stra as strange noises came from her kitchen.

Her first thought was that there was an intruder. But what kind of thief would mess around in her kitchen?

Clutching her phone, ready to call the police at any moment, she decided to bravely sneak a peek. Surprisingly, she saw all the lights in her living room were on, and a familiar figure was in the kitchen.

"Scott, what are you doing in my house?" she asked, her voice still slightly nasal.

Scott, busy in the kitchen, immediately turned at the sound of her voice. Molly felt a bit dizzy, but she could still see the embarrassment on his usually composed face.

"What are you doing?" she asked offhandedly.

Scott's expression grew increasingly complex, and then he replied, sounding both angry and embarrassed, "Molly, you really don't remember what you did!" Instead of answering her, he threw back a question Molly's foggy brain took a few seconds to process, and she stared dazedly at the man before her. Then, stiffly, she lowered her head to look at her bathrobe, realizing she was only wearing her underwear underneath.

"Ah! What had happened?

She remembered crying earlier uglily. The wont part was running into him afterward. Then "Where are my clothes?" she asked. Her face turned red, screaming internally.

"Your clothes were soaked through. Did you want to sleep in them?" Scott's tone was calm.

Then, my clothes. Did you take them off? Molly recalled how her heartless brother and mother had bullied her, but facing him now, s inexplicably flustered.

"I told you to take them off yourself. You were dead asleep. Scott replied truthfully.

she felt Molly's face was a mixture of emotions as if she had turned to stone. It was mortifying that he could say*

y such things in such a calm tone.

But soon, it was Scott's turn to be embarrassed, as he nearly burned down Molly's kitchen.

"Just now, were you trying to cook for me in the kitchen Molly regained her senses, walked into the kitchen, and was immediately shocked by the sight of the burnt, unrecognizable black mass, Her frying pan was coated with something so stuck that even a metal spatula couldn't scrape it off.

"Fried eggs, the man behind her muttered, his tone oddly sarcastic.

Molly turned to look at him and sighed after a long moment. She said, "If you hadn't said so, I'd never have guessed that it was supposed to be an

Scott's face was already sour. Seeing Molly effortlessly cleaning up, he hesitated before speaking again.

"Over there is the oatmeal I was making." "Isn't oatmeal supposed to have water in it Molly was stunned to realize the burnt black mess was meant to be oatmeal.

"I didn't know how much water to add Scott's voice was still and a hit irate.

This was his first time in a kitchen, so what could she expect? He had never cooked before, let alone known how much water to use or how long to cook, Kitchen tasks were truly bothersome.

Scot usually appeared composed, calm, and unruffled. Now, seeing him fume over a pot of burnt food was like watching a child throw a tantrum. stubbornly refusing to admit his mistakes.

Molly suddenly burst into laughter. "You're really useless. How can you be this old and not know how to make oatmeal" er tone wasn't mocking

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She just found it amusing. "I heard Dominick is great at cooking. How come you don't even have basic life skills?"

Scott felt his pride taking a hit.

"I've never been in a kitchen. It's normal as we don't need to learn these things, Vincent hasn't even held a spatula. As for Dominick, whom e knows what got into him? He hired several master chefs to teach him. Wellington Villa almost had a fire back then, Scott's face was a mix of emotions as he explained.

Seeing his expression, Molly laughed even more as she cleaned the pan.

In the end, she made two plates of pasta herself, adding some of the marinated beef and a sprinkle of spices. Exhausted from his late-night kitchen disaster, Scott felt a strange sense of satisfaction eating the pasta. Meanwhile, someone else was also hungry in the middle of the night.

Dominick's fever hadn't completely subsided. Stephanie forcibly took his temperature for the umpteenth time, grumbling, 100.4 degrees." "After all this fuss, your fever's only dropped by 1.8 degrees. You should go to the hospital for an injection or call someone from your family. Seeing him awake, Stephanic immediately pushed him away, kindly saying a lot. And Dominick simply said, "I'm hungry."

Stephanie gasped. She wanted to throw every pan and spatula at this annoying man.

Thirty minutes later, she cursed herself for not being heartless enough. "Bang. A plate of pasta was placed heavily in front of him.

"What is this?" Dominick looked at the food and then at her.

"It's the middle of the night. There is no takeout delivery. I'm out of frozen meals.

This is pasta with a poached egg," she explained offhandedly.

"This is pasta?" Dominick scrutinized the mushy, unidentifiable lump on the plate.

It was hard to see it as food.

"What do you mean by that!?" Stephanie was furious. I'm telling by Want you, eat it if you want to If you want something that looks and tastes amazing, that's from someone else's wife. This is what you're getting from me!"

Dominick took a bite, expressionless. As expected, it tasted awful.