Ex-Mate Wants Me Back (Seraphina and Mortimer) novel Chapter 154

Chapter 154

Third Person’s POV

Wilmot literally had to rub his stiff cheeks, letting out a sharp, disgusted clicking sound from the back of his throat.

Trista picked up on his weird behavior immediately.

She shot him a freezing side-eye, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “What the hell is wrong with you now?”

“I’m getting a cavity from all this cringe,” Wilmot mouthed silently, looking deeply disturbed.

He couldn’t even process the reality in front of him. The high-and-mighty, untouchable Mortimer Craig was actually racking his brain, desperately scraping the bottom of the barrel just to force small talk with a woman.

Was this not the most humiliating thing he had ever witnessed?

“Babe, are you seeing this?” Wilmot quickly leaned into Trista’s ear, dropping his voice to a whisper.

“Seeing what?” Trista’s brows knitted tightly. She smoothly took a step sideways, seamlessly creating a buffer zone between

her and this annoying bastard.

Wilmot used his chin to point at Mortimer leading the pack. “I don’t know if Dash is going to grow up into a sunshine puppy, but looking at our proud Alpha up ahead… he sure looks like a happy, tail-wagging golden boy right now.”

Trista followed his gaze, and the corner of her mouth violently twitched.

Thinking back to the untouchable, ice-cold tyrant Mortimer used to be when dealing with Seraphina, and comparing it to this pathetic, desperate simp walking in front of them-the whiplash was so massive she almost burst out laughing.

At this point, Seraphina was seriously questioning if Mortimer needed to be institutionalized. Otherwise, why was he talking like a complete weirdo?

Seeing that Seraphina had zero intention of engaging with him, Mortimer didn’t even care.

He doubled down, his thick skin working overtime. “You’ve been quiet. Do you disagree with me? Or do you think Dash doesn’t like the vibe here?”

Seraphina’s internal reservoir of patience completely drained out.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her clear, freezing eyes staring absolute daggers into Mortimer. “Can you just shut your mouth and be quiet?”

Mortimer’s breath hitched in his throat.

His Alpha pride took a sharp hit, making his chest feel tight. But ultimately… he obediently shut his mouth.

Walking behind them, Wilmot saw the entire exchange and couldn’t stop himself from whistling happily.

He leaned into Trista, snarking with pure schadenfreude. “Look at that, babe. The happy boy just lost his smile.”

Trista was getting a headache from both of these obnoxiously loud men. She cut her eyes sideways, giving Wilmot a lethal glare “You can shut your mouth and be quiet too. Got it?”

The smug smile on Wilmot’s face instantly evaporated.

Damn it. Now he was the one who was depressed.

Trista didn’t even bother looking at Wilmot’s miserable face, simply picking up her pace and walking forward.

“Babe, wait for me!” Wilmot quickly stretched his long legs, sprinting to stick to her like glue.

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Chapter 4-

+15 Bonus

When they walked into the lobby, they happened to run into a neighbor holding a little girl, waiting for the elevator.

When the doors opened, the entire group filed in.

Inside the tight, enclosed space, the pungent smell radiating off Mortimer became violently obvious.

The little girl, who was resting her chin on her dad’s shoulder, suddenly lifted her head. Her cute little nose scrunched up. She leaned into her dad’s ear and whispered loudly, “Daddy, it smells like a sewer in here.”

The dad’s eyes instinctively darted over to Mortimer, his face contorting into an incredibly awkward grimace.

Mortimer caught the man’s gaze. His expression suddenly became very… colorful.`

“Pfft-”

In the dead-silent elevator, someone let out a very unapologetic snort of laughter.

Mortimer’s face turned black. He shot a freezing, murderous glare at a certain someone in the back corner.

Luckily, the elevator pinged and the doors slid open right on cue.

Mortimer walked out with Dash cradled in his arms.

Seraphina walked over to unlock her door, allowing him to carry the puppy inside.

The apartment was decorated in a Nordic minimalist style. With creamy white as the primary color, the entire space radiated a feeling of ultimate safety and comfort.

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A fluffy, cream-colored dog bed was sitting in the corner of the living room, yet Mortimer just stood there, completely refusing to put Dash down.

When Seraphina walked out of the kitchen with a basin of warm water, she saw him still standing there like a statue. “Thank you for today. You can put Dash in his bed now. I’m going to wipe him down.”

Because of his fractured rib, Dash couldn’t take a proper bath./Seraphina had mixed some pet-safe essential oils into the warm water to give him a sponge bath instead.

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