Scarlett's POV:
"Do something about what?" Charles asked casually, grabbed a magazine, and started flipping through it.
I snatched the magazine from his hand and said, "The entire world doesn't need to know about our marriage."
"Well, you heard my assistant. The entire world already does. What do you expect me to do about it?" Charles dipped his chin and eyed me carefully as if he was seriously considering what I wanted to happen.
Feeling that there was still a chance to ameliorate the situation, I set down the magazine and started strategizing with him. "Now is a good time to issue an official statement. Netizens don't know what to believe right now because you haven't confirmed or denied anything about our relationship. Once you speak up, everything will be okay."
"But I don't want to lie about us." Charles furrowed his brows and looked very upset.
"Fine. Then I'll issue a statement. That way, you won't be the one lying," I compromised again. I could not believe the stream of excuses he had flowing.
"You're so smart, honey." With a faint smile on his face, Charles said, "Go do whatever you want." I blinked at him twice. I did not expect that he would just agree to my suggestion without a fight. "If you want, I'll call someone right now to help you write an official statement,"
he added and then continued, "I mean, we don't want to worsen the situation with a badly written press release, do we?"
I froze and then darted my eyes to my phone. I took a moment to consider what he just said. Charles did make a lot of sense. A clumsy denial might result in self-exposure. If I failed to explain everything clearly, the netizens would probably even doubt me for trying to hide something, and all my efforts would be in vain.
"What? Do you want to make the phone call?" Charles cast a cold glance at me.
I pursed my lips and put down my phone. "I want to rethink releasing an official statement."
What if I just left it? Was it really such a bad idea that everyone knew about me and Charles now? I decided to forget about it and drop the idea of making a statement.
"Very well. Like I said, you can do whatever you want," Charles beamed and pointed at the gift boxes. "Open them."
"No. I don't want to accept those gifts. It's not appropriate for me to open them." I folded my arms over my chest.
The gifts were for Mrs. Moore. If I accepted them, then that would mean I was admitting to being Charles's legal wife.
"Well, they're yours anyway. Just open one, will you?" Charles said to me lazily.
If I refused one more time, Charles would just badger me until I gave in, so I decided to save myself from the pestering.
The gifts the partners sent obviously came from a place of sincerity. They were not only in delicate boxes but also wrapped in shiny, expensive-looking wrapping paper that exuded a signature fragrance. I opened one box that contained a pair of gorgeous couple rings.
"Are those couple rings? Give them to me," Charles ordered and crossed his legs.
"Get them yourself," I replied and rolled my eyes.
"But my hand hurts," Charles pouted and rubbed his hand.
"But your legs are functional, aren't they?" He was really starting to piss me off with his barefaced lies.
"I thought you decided to stay to help me. Why are you being mean to me now? You know what, forget it. Just leave me alone so I can curl up in my bed and die," Charles murmured to himself, implicating that I was cold, heartless, and without a conscience.
I could not decide whether to be irked or amused. In the end, I just shook my head, picked up the rings, and brought them to him. "Here you go. Stop sulking."
"Put one on me," Charles grinned.
"Oh, for crying out loud, Charles. Don't push it," I said through gritted teeth.
"I can't do it. Like I said, my hand hurts. I'm really feeling useless right now, okay? I don't appreciate your being snippy toward me. You should be kind to injured people," Charles began pouting again.
Once again, I rolled my eyes and then picked up the bigger ring. "Give me your hand."
I had to admit that Charles's hands were the best-looking hands I had ever seen in my life. They were always clean and supple, and his fingers were long and slender. When I slid the ring onto his finger, it fit perfectly like it was tailor-made for him.
I curled my lips and murmured, "Wow. It looks great on you."
Charles did not respond. Instead, he picked up the other ring and said, "Now give me your hand." "What? Why?" I shot him a suspicious look. What was this guy up to?
"I'll put this on you," Charles answered, looking up at me.
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