Chapter 65
“No need. I can do it myself,” Anathea refused.
She didn’t think she was close enough to Thomas to accept being fed by him.
But Thomas didn’t seem to mind at all. Instead, he said seriously, “Do you want to burn my hand again before you’ll be satisfied, Mrs. Sinclair?”
Anathea tensed slightly. She hadn’t meant it that way.
However, Thomas smiled. “I’m just joking. You’re sick, Mrs. Sinclair. As an employee of the Sinclairs, it’s my duty to take care of
you. So, please have this soup so you can recover faster, okay?”
Anathea hesitated for a moment, but then Thomas added pitifully, “My hand was already burned just now, and now my arm’s getting sore because I’ve been holding it up for a long time. Please have a little mercy on me, Mrs. Sinclair.”
A flicker of guilt flashed through Anathea’s eyes. She had no choice but to open her mouth.
The soup was mild in flavor but tasted surprisingly good.
“Is it good?” Thomas asked.
Anathea nodded.
“Then, have some more.” Thomas scooped another spoonful and held it to her lips.
Anathea pressed her lips together. When she saw Thomas was just treating it as routine work–given his normal expression–she
didn’t refuse again.
After a few spoonfuls, she already felt a bit healthier. She reached out to take the bowl from Thomas. “I feel much better now. I
can handle it myself.”
But Thomas didn’t hand over the bowl immediately. Instead, he pointed at the corner of her mouth. “There’s something on your lips, Mrs. Sinclair.”
“Really?” Anathea quickly wiped at her mouth with her hand, but she couldn’t feel anything.
“It’s on this side,” Thomas said, using his thumb to wipe her mouth.
The warmth of his touch made Anathea freeze. She stared at Thomas in a daze, a trace of surprise flickering in her eyes.
“He’s… crossing a line,” she thought.
A cold, sharp voice cut through the air. “What the hell are you two doing?”
Anathea snapped back to her senses and turned toward the door, seeing Gregory there. His tall, imposing figure loomed there, his
handsome face clouded with rage. His eyes were blazing with fury, as if he was ready to swallow her whole.
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Thomas also flinched at Gregory’s sudden appearance and quickly withdrew his hand. “Mr. Sinclair, it’s not what you think-
Before he could finish, Gregory had already stormed over and punched him hard in the face.
“Tom!” Anathea gasped, covering her mouth in shock
She never imagined that Gregory would actually resort to violence.
Her cries for Thomas only fueled Gregory’s anger. Without hesitation, he grabbed Thomas by the collar and lifted him off the
ground, ready to strike again.
“Gregory! Stop!” Anathea rushed to intervene. But as soon as she got out of bed, she stumbled and fell to the floor, knocking over the bowl on the nightstand.
With a sharp crash, the shattered pieces cut into her hand, and a pained gasp slipped from her lips.
Only then did Gregory pause, his dark gaze shifting to Anathea’s disheveled form before flicking back to Thomas.
After Thomas took the heavy punch from Gregory, the side of his face was swelling badly, and a thin trail of blood trickled from
the corner of his mouth.
But his eyes remained unwavering. “Mr. Sinclair, I swear there’s nothing between Mrs. Sinclair and me. Please don’t take your
anger out on her.”
Little did he know, to Gregory, those words sounded like a pathetic attempt to cover things up.
Gregory tightened his grip on Thomas‘ collar, his voice dripping with scom. “You’re just a cook. What gives you the right to say this to me? Or do you think that by clinging to a woman I’ve already grown bored of, you’ve somehow gained some ridiculous
sense of superiority?”
Anathea’s face turned pale in an instant.
“he
Thomas frowned tightly. When he was about to retort, Gregory flung him to the floor without a second thought. “Get out,” he ordered icily.
“Mr. Sinclair!” Thomas refused to back down.
