Everything was a deal until divorce novel Chapter 109

Chapter 109 Fever and Fake Calm

Arden gave Lucien a strange look.

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Finished

He was sweating bullets by the time they reached the suite. Fumbling for the keycard, he rushed to unlock the door.

The moment they stepped in, a wave of alcohol hit her. The room was dimly lit, only the bedside lamp on.

Dorian was sprawled across the bed, shirt untucked and bunched up around his waist, revealing his lean waistline. He lay face–down, one arm under his head, facing the door.

Even drunk and burning up, his features were ridiculously sharp and handsome. The AC was blasting–set way too low.

Arden grabbed the remote and bumped the temperature up a few degrees.

When she walked over, she saw the crease between his brows was tight with discomfort. She pressed her palm to his forehead–burning hot.

She frowned. “Lucien, check with the front desk. See if they’ve got any apples, ginger, or something like broth we can use. And ask if they have a thermometer. We can’t give him anything until he sobers up. Right now, we just need to get his fever down.”

Lucien nodded fast. “Also,” Arden called out before he left, “ask for some ice.”

Lucien practically lit up. “Yes, Mrs. Vale! On it!”

Still cares about the boss, he thought, beaming like a proud dad.

Arden lightly slapped Dorian’s cheek. “Mr. Vale, you should at least cover yourself.”

She tried turning him over to check for injuries. He didn’t respond. The fever had him out of it.

Arden tied her hair back and knelt beside the bed again gently patting his face. “Dorian, wake up.”

He finally opened his eyes and blinked at her, confused. Thought he was dreaming. He reached out to pull her into his arms, mumbling, voice raspy, “Say it. Call me babe.”

“You’re delirious,” Arden muttered, dodging his arms.

He grabbed nothing but air. “Lie down properly. Where do you feel the worst?”

He groaned and flipped onto his back, eyes red from the fever. “Everywhere.”

“You came back and didn’t even shower. No wonder.”

He closed his eyes again. Arden sighed. Lucien soon returned, thermometer and ingredients in hand. She took Dorian’s temperature. 103.8°F. Bad.

“You hold him up and get him into the shower,” she instructed Lucien. “I’ll make the soup.”

Lucien’s face twitched. “He doesn’t let anyone touch him. Maybe you should~”

Arden cut him off. “He’s not conscious. He won’t know. Just do it.

19:10 Thu, Feb 5 GNB

Chapter 109 Fever and Fake Calm

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Finished

Lucien looked nervous but agreed. The kitchen in the site was well–stocked and spacious. Arden washed the ingredients quickly, mimicking the method her mom used to make soup for her dad.

Meanwhile, Lucien struggled in the bedroom, trying to unbutton Dorian’s shirt.

Dorian’s eyes flew open. “Lucien, what the hell?”

“Your wife told me to help you shower!”

Dorian’s expression changed. “Arden’s here?”

“Yeah, you kept calling for her, so I went and got her.”

“Where is she?”

“In the kitchen. Making you soup.”

Dorian’s mood shifted instantly. He staggered toward the kitchen.

It was brightly lit. Arden stood at the stove, focused on the simmering pot. The broth had to be cooked low and slow.

She wore a white dress cinched at the waist, hair loosely tied up. The hem fell just above her knees, showing off her long legs and bare feet in soft slippers.

She looked completely at home. Stray strands of hair fell around her neck, catching the light. The steam from the pot framed her in a soft glow. She stood there, quietly waiting.

There was a bowl on the counter next to her.

Maybe it was the fever, maybe he was just vulnerable, but in that moment Dorian felt something he hadn’t before.

This—this image–felt warm. Felt right. Like having someone waiting for him at home.

She looked… gentle and soft. Like the kind of woman who’d quietly take care of her husband.

The women he’d known were never like this. They were always scheming, desperate for his attention, obsessed with status, chasing luxury.

But Arden… Arden was different. She was in there trying to take care of him. Making him something warm. something to help him sober up.

He stood there staring at her for a long, long moment. Then he quietly stepped away, forced himself to take a shower.

By the time Arden carried the soup to the room, he was face–down on the bed again, hair dripping, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Upper body bare, lean and muscular. Back sculpted and scarred. Water still glistened on his skin..

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