Everything was a deal until divorce novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110 No Shirt, No Chill

Blankets tossed aside. AC somehow cranked back down.

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Arden stared at his soaking wet hair and bare torso and immediately grabbed her phone. Lucien answered, “Hello, Mrs. Vale.”

“Call me Arden.”

Lucien paused. “Right. Mrs. Vale. What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t dry his hair? He’s half–naked, lying under an icebox. You want him to go from a fever to pneumonia?”

Lucien sighed. “He wouldn’t let me. He said no.”

Arden’s patience snapped. She slapped Dorian’s back, not too gently. “Are you trying to die?”

He didn’t move. The fever had clearly scrambled his brain. Still fuming, she covered him with the comforter and turned the AC back up. Lucien heard it all over the phone and wisely kept his mouth shut.

Finally, Arden said, “Lucien, come in. He’s too heavy. I can’t hold him up to feed him.”

“On my way.”

Lucien stepped in and saw Dorian face–down, hair soaked, leaving a dark patch on the sheets. Arden was rummaging for the hair dryer. She glanced at him. “Is he always like this when he’s sick?”

“Yeah. Classic man–child. Thinks he can tough it out.”

Arden found the dryer and handed it to him. “Dry his hair.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.”

Lucien stammered. “He won’t let anyone touch him.”

Arden looked at the passed–out man. “He’s unconscious Won’t know. Just go quick before he wakes up. Honestly, how dramatic can he be?”

Lucien hesitated, then carefully sat beside the bed and whispered, “Boss… I’m drying your hair now,” No

response.

Lucien turned on the blow dryer and aimed it at Dorian’s hair. The sudden warmth made Dorian’s eyes snap open. He grabbed Lucien’s wrist on instinct.

Once he saw who it was, his bloodshot eyes narrowed. His face was stone cold. “Get out.”

“Come on, you’ll catch a cold.”

“I said get out.”

His flushed face was all fever, but those bloodshot eyes were cold and sharp. Lucien backed away. “Maybe you could… dry it yourself?”

19:10 Thu, Feb 5 BNB.

Chapter 110 No Shirt, No Chill

Dorian buried his face in the pillow. “Get Arden.”

His cheek hit the spot she’d bitten earlier. He winced. “Ow…”

Arden walked in with a warm washcloth and heard his groan. “Oh, you’re awake. Dry your own hair.”

“No strength.”

“Then let Lucien do it.”

Dorian glared at Lucien. “Why are you still here?”

Lucien dropped the dryer and practically teleported to the door. “Good luck, Mrs. Vale. You got this.”

Then he bolted and shut the door behind him. Arden stared after him.

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Dorian looked up and pulled his arm out from under the blanket, showing her the bite mark. “This really hurts, you know.”

She glanced at it, unimpressed. “You deserved it.”

“How can you be so heartless? I’m a sick man, and you’re the one who bit me.”

Arden switched on the overhead lights, illuminating every detail of his fever–flushed face. “Sit up.”

“Why?”

“To dry your hair.“.

She wasn’t in the mood to argue. “You want to get sicker”

“Fine.”

He sat up obediently. The blanket slid down, exposing his chest.

Sharp abs, broad shoulders, deep lines. The scar on his abdomen looked angry, red. Clearly the source of the fever.

“Either put on a shirt or cover up,” Arden snapped. “You trying to seduce someone?”

Dorian, even sick, looked smug. “You’ve seen it before.”

“Are you putting something on or not?”

He saw her temper flaring and gave in. “Okay, okay.”

He pulled the blanket up over himself lazily. Still shirtless, still smirking. He was all heat and muscle and dark eyes full of something unreadable.

He looked up. “Better?”

She tossed a T–shirt at his head. “Put it on.”

He caught it, raising an eyebrow. Then, very deliberately pulled the blanket away and tugged the shirt over his head right in front of her.