From Wife to Aunt: His Worst Nightmare novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21

I sneered at how Dorothy had mistaken me for a maid.

The idea Steve had been feeding her was obvious enough. She believed that Isabel was the lady

of the house.

Just then, Isabel coughed weakly a few times in Steve’s arms and said in a frail voice, “Steve, I feel so awful…”

Steve scooped her up in his arms and shot me a dark glare. “The chapel has been repaired. Go

kneel there.”

With that, he told the driver to get the car ready and prepare to take Isabel to the hospital.

The sheer disparity in treatment and the favoritism without a shred of reason filled me with both grievance and fury.

I couldn’t help shouting at his retreating back, “Steve, you’re a bastard!”

He turned around. His already icy gaze became even more menacing as he stared daggers at me. It was as if with one more word from me, a blade could materialize out of thin air and

pierce straight through my chest.

I said, “You love her so much. Did you never watch her debut film? I’m talking about the one where she played a swimming coach. There was no stunt double, and she did all the scenes

herself. She’s an excellent swimmer.

“This pool isn’t even deep. It’s perfectly manageable for someone who can swim. Even someone who can’t swim wouldn’t drown in it!”

I didn’t want him to see me shedding tears pathetically. After saying that, I turned away and dragged my drenched body into the villa.

Even after being exposed by me, Steve still cared for Isabel personally. He took out the last piece of ginger in the fridge to make her ginger tea.

That was when I suddenly realized that maybe Steve knew all about Isabel’s little tricks. After all, he was a smart man who could maneuver through the business world effortlessly. How could he not see through her tactics?

He simply didn’t care who was right or wrong. Just because it was Isabel, he was willing to tolerate everything she did without limits.

X CLOSE

Chapter 21

2/3

When I woke up the next morning, I had a slight fever. But thinking about the interview in the afternoon, I forced myself to pull it together.

Ever since I moved out of the master bedroom, all my clothes had been transferred to the wardrobe in the guest room. But after rummaging through it for ages, I couldn’t find the tailored blazer I had bought last year that was perfect for formal occasions.

I must have accidentally left it in the walk-in closet.

So, I had no choice but to go upstairs to the second floor. Just as I reached the door of the walk -in closet, I saw Isabel holding several scarves and sweaters while heading toward the master

bedroom.

I vaguely heard her say, “Steve, are these yours? They’re not your style at all. Wearing them would make you look cheap. Should I just throw them away?”

“Handle them however you like,” Steve replied casually, as if she were asking what to eat for

dinner.

My heart clenched. I had knitted those items for him with my own hands.

Back when he was in college, he had mentioned once that his buddy’s girlfriend loved knitting sweaters and gloves for him. He had said gifts like that were very thoughtful.

At the time, I was still in high school. After school, I went to buy yarn. I spent countless evenings sitting in a knitwear shop, learning from the owner how to knit.

During that period, my grades plummeted. I went from the top three in my grade to somewhere past the 50th. My teacher even called my adoptive parents in.

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