But if he dares to hurt Mommy.
Jude Sinclair’s gaze turned icy. If that were the case, he’d risk everything to protect Seraphina Sinclair.
Seraphina, unconscious, was unaware that her condition had thrown several men into disarray, each holding a serious grudge against Desmond Fairchild. If she were truly hurt, they would go to great lengths, even risking their lives, to ensure Desmond suffered. Googlᴇ search ɴovelfire.net
Yet she also couldn’t know that Desmond was no different from the rest, burdened by guilt. Normally portraying a demeanor of mercilessness, he remained silent in the face of the White brothers’ harsh taunts.
Fortunately, Seraphina awoke in the middle of the night.
Upon waking, Jude was asleep beside her. As she moved, Desmond’s gentle voice reached her ears, "You’re awake."
"Why are you here?" Seraphina sat up weakly, gazing at Desmond seated on the sofa, sitting completely still.
Seeing her awake, only then did he stand up and gently help her sit upright.
Remembering the day’s events, Seraphina remained angry, her expression unfriendly: "What are you doing here?"
"You must be hungry. Eat something first." Desmond turned and walked out, bringing back the porridge that had been warm on the stove.
"I’m not eating." Seraphina’s expression was cold; just awakened, she had no appetite.
"Open your mouth." Desmond disregarded her refusal, bringing the porridge directly to her lips.
Seraphina was shocked. This damned man, after saying such things to her in the day, dared to behave now.
She lifted her hand, directly pushing away the spoon, with an intensified tone: "Desmond Fairchild, I said I won’t eat. Didn’t you hear me?"
"Your body needs energy replenishment." Desmond carefully held the spoon, ensuring the porridge didn’t spill.
"Why should you care if I replenish energy or not? Weren’t you the one who said I should see to my own affairs? Now, why are you acting all concerned about mine?" Seraphina sneered, turning her head away, refusing to even glance at this damned man.
The one who wouldn’t listen to explanations was him, the one who told her to see to herself was him, so what good man act is he playing now?
In Desmond’s deep eyes flashed a hint of hurt. After setting the bowl aside, it took him a good while to muster up a simple, "Sorry."
Indeed, he had been too impulsive during the day’s events, failing to listen to Seraphina’s explanations; he admitted. But he couldn’t get past the fact she had deceived him.
Yet, considering Camille’s words, Seraphina’s health wasn’t good to begin with; how could he hold this against her?
Seraphina never expected Desmond to apologize. In her mind, given his character, even in the wrong, he wouldn’t admit fault, let alone apologize. Especially since in the daytime events, she was also partly at fault.
Desmond’s apology thus left her without a place to vent her anger.
While she remained silent, unsure of how to respond, Desmond continued, "I apologize for what I said today, but as an adult, I don’t agree with petulantly refusing meals just because of anger."
Desmond might have truly forgotten the times he refused to eat because Seraphina hadn’t replied to his messages.
"Your body is weak, not suited for anger. When it’s time to eat, you shouldn’t forget to do so." Desmond coaxingly held the porridge to Seraphina’s lips again. "Whether or not you choose to forgive me, you shouldn’t harm your own body."
Seraphina was at a loss for words, considering his reasoning. No matter how angry she was, neglecting her health was unwise; there were still many things she needed to do, and she couldn’t let minor disputes hinder her.
Moreover, she still had her son to care for.
Thinking of this, Seraphina opened her small mouth and took in a spoonful of the porridge which was already cooling.
Seeing her eat obediently, Desmond was already satisfied. Whether she could forgive him, he would leave for another time.
After Seraphina finished her meal, the nourishment seemed to restore heat within her, causing a thin sweat to surface as she sat on the bed.
Taking advantage of Desmond’s departure to tidy the dishes, she hurriedly got up to bathe.
Cleaned up, wearing slippers as she approached the kitchen, she noticed a nutritional diet chart surprisingly stuck on the fridge.
The menu was quite varied, spanning Monday through Sunday, with three different meals daily.
And in the trash can were many crumpled pieces of paper, which Seraphina stealthily picked up; they contained various food pairings.
Could it be that Desmond had been working on these while she was asleep?
For a moment, a mix of emotions surged within her, unsure of what to say.
This man, typically so distant and cold, silently made such efforts for her, bearing even her scolding without complaint, and she had sulkily quarreled over something trivial.
Reflecting on her childish behavior, Seraphina couldn’t help but feel remorseful.
She recalled the pain she felt seeing Desmond with Anna, knowing no one understood her feelings better. Thus she acknowledged the difficulty in Desmond’s emotions when he discovered her deceit and involvement with another man.
She gently walked to Desmond, who was washing dishes, and her slender arms wrapped around his waist as she rested her face against his broad back, softly apologizing, "Desmond, I was wrong today too. I shouldn’t have deceived you, I’m sorry."
Her soft form pressed against Desmond’s back, the scent of soap wafted to his nose, darkening his gaze as he inhaled sharply.
Afraid Desmond might not forgive her, Seraphina rubbed her face against his back, moving her hands uneasily around his waist, pressing her entire body against him.
Desmond was only wearing a thin shirt, and through the silk fabric, he could clearly feel Seraphina’s warm body, a heat threatening to melt him.
"Seraphina." He struggled to suppress the overwhelming desire, calling her name hoarsely.
"Hmm? What’s wrong?" Seraphina, lost in her thoughts, was unaware of the gravity of the situation, turning to face him with concern, "Are you tired? Or uncomfortable somewhere?"
Standing before him, Seraphina’s enticing scent grew stronger, those freshly washed, clear eyes innocently meeting his gaze, further compelling his desire as his voice became lower and more magnetic.
Seraphina didn’t believe him, noting Desmond’s unusual demeanor, prompting her to rise on tiptoe to touch his forehead; relieved by its normal temperature, she sighed, "It’s good you’re not feverish. But then..."
Her cool hands nearing, the fragrant body almost nestled in his arms, before she could finish, Desmond extended his long arm and wrapped her, the teasing little temptress, into his embrace.