Cross My Tigress Face the Wrath (Stella) novel Chapter 960

Susanna sniffled, her voice tinged with a small, wounded plea. "Yeah... an orange. I want an orange."

"You’ve got a cold," Hull said, arching a brow. "Should you really be eating cold fruit?"

"I want one," she insisted, drawing out the last word with stubborn longing.

It was a habit she could never quite shake—whenever she’d forced down bitter medicine, or gotten tipsy, she would crave an orange. Only that crisp, citrus burst seemed to cut through the feverish restlessness that burned inside her.

Especially now, with her fever spiking—one moment she was shivering, the next her body felt like it had been marooned in a desert, shriveling from the heat. Right now, she felt parched, her body burning up as if she’d been wandering through a desert for days.

Eventually, Hull called down and had the front desk send up an assortment of fruit, but Susanna ignored everything except the oranges.

Hull peeled one for her, and as soon as she devoured it, she immediately asked, "More." Her tone was blissful, thoroughly content—she adored the taste of oranges.

Hull glanced at the remaining fruit. "Are you sure you should be eating so many?"

"Oranges are full of vitamin C—it’ll help me get over this cold faster," she argued. Who knew if that was true? She’d say anything right now if it meant another orange.

Hull remained unconvinced. Last time he’d given in to one of her whims—her late-night idea to grill hot wings on the balcony—she’d caught this cold. He wasn’t about to indulge her every request without thinking.

Frowning, he pulled out his phone to check if it was really okay to eat oranges while sick. The internet seemed to agree: vitamin-rich fruit could be good for a cold.

Only then did Hull relent and hand her another orange.

This was unbelievable. The man was in there with his daughter and still showed him such blatant disrespect. Was he really supposed to trust a man like this with his daughter’s future? "Don’t stop knocking," Derek snapped. He was seething at the indignity of it all—he’d driven all this way, and this was how his daughter and future son-in-law greeted him? Young people these days were getting more and more out of hand.

Caden, with no choice but to obey, pressed the doorbell again and again. The sharp "ding-dong" reverberated through the quiet night, almost frantic in its urgency. No response. He pressed again. And again.

As Caden raised his hand to try once more, the door suddenly flew open from inside—with no warning.

Before he could react, a booted foot shot out and cracked him square in the gut. With a choked gasp, Caden crumpled to the floor, curling up in pain as he tried to catch his breath.

Derek’s wrath wavered in that moment, his scowl faltering as he stared at his assistant, now doubled over on the hallway carpet.

Then he glanced up—and found Hull standing in the doorway, cold and imposing, danger radiating from every inch of his frame. The look in his eyes was enough to send a chill straight down Derek’s spine.