Chapter 647
Chapter 647:
Despite her thoughts, she couldn’t recall any connection between Milton and herself before their wedding night. To the best of her knowledge, they hadn’t known each other before then, nor shared any mutual acquaintances.
Who could it possibly be?
Determined to uncover the truth, she resolved to use her position as his personal attorney to investigate those around him.
Lost in thought, she absentmindedly traced the contours of his face, stroking his handsome features repeatedly. Her fingers lightly grazed the stubble on his chin, noticing it was uneven.
All at once, Milton’s eyes snapped open like a startled cat. He gripped her hand tightly.
Candice was taken aback. Her secret touch had been a bold move, and now she had been caught red-handed.
A flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks. She recoiled, nearly leaping out of bed in haste, clumsily wrapping the quilt around herself.
In her scramble, she tumbled out of bed and landed on the soft carpet below.
Milton was just a moment too late to catch her.
Despite the fall, the plush carpet and padded edges of the bed kept her unharmed. Hastily, Candice scrambled to her feet, stammering, “I’ll get up… I’ll make breakfast.”
Having said that, she bolted from the room and headed straight for the bathroom downstairs.
Oh, how mortifying! What had she been thinking? She had taken the liberty to caress him, and he had caught her in the act.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, her ears burning red with embarrassment, she stomped her foot in regret.
Once freshened up, she went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. She certainly didn’t have the audacity to expect Milton to cook every meal in her house.
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She swung open the refrigerator, grabbed two cups of milk, sliced some bread, and popped it into the toaster, all while preparing some jam.
Next, she fried two eggs.
Finally, she arranged the breakfast neatly on the table.
Milton sauntered downstairs at his leisure. He had evidently shaved and changed out of his pajamas into a chestnut-colored casual outfit, looking utterly refreshed.
He eased himself into a chair at the table. As he caught sight of the breakfast Candice had prepared, a subtle twitch played at the corners of his mouth.
The bread had been in the oven far too long, turning into a charred, rock-hard slab. The bacon was left cold and untouched.
The yolks of the fried eggs were a scrambled mess, their original shape unrecognizable.
Milton wondered if this food was even edible.
Yet Candice seemed unfazed. She eagerly bit into a sandwich made with the hard, overcooked bread, cold bacon, and the scrambled eggs.
.
.
.