Chapter 275
Chapter 275
Chapter 275 Thanks For Your Concern
Christina took two steps backward and responded matter–of–factly, “What nonsense are you talking about? As your sister–in–law, it’s only right for me to look after you. After all, we’re family. We should stick together and look out for each other.”
Yes, that’s right.
It wasn’t as though she harbored any pity or affection for him.
Francis gazed at her delicate face, a dull look swirling in his eyes. “Thank you for your concern, my dear sister–in–law. I’m rather cold now. Maybe you could warm me up a little with a hug and make me feel more at home?”
At that instant, it was as if a bomb had gone off in her mind, slowing her thinking down Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.
That sounds… wrong.
Troubled by the man’s suggestive words, she felt an impending headache. “You’re cold, huh? I’ll turn on the heating for you. The room will feel as warm as a sauna in no time.”
After turning on the room’s heating, Christina made a hasty retreat
Stepping out of the lounge, she was greeted by a gentle breeze. It was only then that she realized her checks were flushed red.
Francis was indeed a born charmer, and it took her some serious willpower to resist his tantalizing allure.
Back in the lounge, Francis watched as the door closed behind her. He picked up the small, pink, cartoon- patterned blanket that lay on him and pulled it up to his nose. Lying down with the blanket covering half of his face, he felt as if he was cuddling Christina in bed.
A while after taking the medicine, he drowsily fell asleep.
As the brightness outside the window gradually gave way to dusk. Francis woke up to find the room’s heating turned off and the sweat on his forehead wiped away.
The blanket that had been covering his face was now placed on his stomach, probably a precautionary move by Christina to prevent him from suffocating.
Lying in the lounge, surrounded by Christina’s scent, Francis felt strangely content.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Upon seeing him awake, Christina, who was holding a bowl of pasta, was taken aback. “You must be famished. Eat up,” she said.
“You made this?” Francis was stumped. His voice came out hoarse, and it took him a while to realize it was his own voice.
He was probably dehydrated from sweating, and his throat felt extremely dry.
Christina placed the pasta on the bedside table. “Your voice is all raspy. You should hurry up and eat some food.”
The pasta was covered with cut–up strips of carrots arranged into the words “Happy Birthday” with a side
of lettuce. The hearty dish seemed to have been prepared with great care.
Francis gazed at the pasta, an enigmatic glint flickering across his eyes.
Worried that Francis might misunderstand his intention, Christina hurriedly explained. “Your assistant called me earlier to tell me it’s your birthday. Why didn’t you go back to spend your birthday with Ms. Macall
She had only just found out it was his birthday, and she whipped up the pasta in the pantry in haste. As such, it looked quite plain.
“She doesn’t remember my birthday, and besides, I don’t enjoy celebrating it,” Francis replied with a faint smile that masked his emotions.
Christina nodded absentmindedly, feeling a little foolish for having made an effort.
But who wouldn’t enjoy celebrating their birthday? It’s an important day that honors one’s birth in this world. Francis held up the bowl and picked up the carrot strips that formed the words “Happy Birthday” with a fork. “Your craftsmanship leaves much to be desired. How unsightly,” he mocked.
“Don’t eat it then!” Christina huffed. He’s so ungrateful! I feel so silly for even trying!
She pivoted on her heels and stalked toward the door, saying, “Get lost once you’re feeling better. This isn’t a shelter.”
Her words echoed in the room after she left and shut the door behind her.
Francis pulled out his phone and took a picture of the pasta before giving it a taste.
It had been a while since anyone had celebrated his birthday.
He was harked back to his tenth birthday when his mother and father threw a celebration for him. Julia. barged into their place with her entourage that fateful day. Chaos erupted as a fierce argument broke
out, and he was knocked down. His beautiful cake also toppled over and fell on the floor.
The scene of his chaotic birthday party, the day he was denounced as an illegitimate child, was forever etched in his memory.
Since then, he had avoided celebrating his birthday, and over time, everyone else had come to ignore the day as well.
A strange sensation prickled at his cheeks, and as he reached up to brush it away, he gralized he had shed tears.
A single glistening droplet fell onto his lips, mixing with the sauce of the pasta, filling his empty heart with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Meanwhile, Christina was back in the tailor room, engrossed in her work. Once she finished the task at hand, she would be able to devote some time to managing her studio.
Her marketing was still lacking, soshe needed to devise a better strategy.
When it was almost ten o’clock, she wondered if Francis fever had subsided.
Rayne always left work on time, and as Christina was tidying her desk, the tightly shut door creaked open.
Thinking it was Francis since there was no one else left in the studio, she didn’t even look up as she asked in an impassive tone, “Is your fever gone?”
A tall figure cast a shadow over her as steady footsteps approached.
“Who’s having a fever?” A cold, emotionless voice rang out.
That voice… It’s Nathaniel.
Christina lifted her head, a flicker of surprise crossing her eyes. She had assumed it was Francis.
How am I to explain that I’ve been sheltering a sick Francis in the lounge? As if that isn’t bad enough, he’s even lying on my pillow, covering himself with my blanket…
She couldn’t help but wonder if Nathaniel would beat up Francis, who had just recovered, if he found out about it
Christina cleared her throat. “Oh, it’s my assistant, Rayne. She has a fever, so I sent her home early. I thought she was still here…
It amazed her how quickly and naturally the lies escaped from her lips. Since when am I so good at lying?
Nathaniel simply grunted in acknowledgment. “If she’s sick, she shouldn’t come to work.”
*I’ll check in on her tomorrow. You could have called before coming to pick me up,” Christina said, her eyes darting nervously toward the lounge.
Her heart pounded in her chest. She silently prayed that Francis would stay in the lounge.
Otherwise, she would be done for.
If Nathaniel were to discover she was hiding Francis in the lounge, a simple, kind gesture would escalate into a complicated situation. It would be difficult for her to explain herself.
With that thought in mind, she could feel her palms sweating within a minute.
Nathaniel picked up her bag. “I thought I’d swing by to pick you up after work. Let’s head back.”
Christina nodded, trailing behind him toward the door. As they walked, Nathaniel held her hand and frowned. “Why are you so sweaty?‘
“It’s quite warm inside because I turned the heating on,” Christina murmured absentmindedly.
In that short span of a few minutes, she felt she had lied more times than she ever had in her entire life. with each lie sliding off her tongue more easily than the last.
Thankfully, Nathaniel didn’t dwell on that matter. Once the door was closed behind them, they headed for the elevator.
The studio fell silent once again, and after a moment, Francis emerged from the lounge.
Once again, he felt like an abandoned child, a superfluous existence.
In the Hadley family, he was singled out. He was akin to a lone figure adrift in the expansive universe with no place to truly call home.
However, that bowl of pasta just now seemed to have given him a new direction
Taking a glance around the empty studio, Francis eyes landed on the tailor room. He ventured inside. retrieving a tiny surveillance camera. Carefully, he affixed it to a miniature tower ornament.