I Stopped Waiting and Started Loving novel Chapter 113

Quentin's dark eyes narrowed slightly, an unreadable emotion flashing through his gaze.

Hearing her answer, Arthur was absolutely thrilled, laughing until his eyes crinkled into fine lines.

"Haha, excellent! It seems Bonnie is wonderfully understanding. Quentin, did you hear that? You need to work harder. Don't keep the poor girl waiting!"

Bonnie fully expected Quentin to coldly brush the comment off with an excuse, just as he had done with Marcus.

Instead, Quentin's lips twitched slightly. Looking at his grandfather, he gave a slow, serious nod.

"I'll work hard at it."

The fake smile instantly froze on Bonnie's face as her mind completely short-circuited.

Her brain was flooded with question marks.

Wait, Mr. Vance, have you lost your mind?

Was this something he could just casually agree to?

They were in a contract marriage. Once the three years were up, they were going their separate ways. Where exactly was he going to get this baby from?

If the old man never got his great-grandson, wouldn't he hound them about it every single day?

But Arthur was overjoyed. He pulled Bonnie aside and chatted happily for ages, only heading back to his room when the butler finally urged him to rest.

Once the old man was gone, Marcus and Elaine stormed off with thunderous expressions, throwing a fit and leaving without a single word of goodbye.

Ignoring them entirely, Bonnie kept her head down and quietly followed Quentin up to the second-floor bedroom.

The moment the door clicked shut, Bonnie immediately scrambled backward, putting a solid six feet of distance between herself and Quentin.

Standing in the entryway, Quentin hung his suit jacket on the rack and tugged loosely at his tie with his long fingers.

He turned his head, shooting her an icy, sidelong glance.

Bonnie didn't say a word. Clutching her purse, she quietly shuffled over to the single armchair furthest from the bed and sat down.

She wanted to wait for Quentin to use the bathroom first.

But Quentin had absolutely no intention of washing up.

He walked over with agonizing slowness and sat on the long sofa. Picking up a foreign language book from the coffee table, he casually flipped it open.

Bonnie felt like she was sitting on pins and needles. She pulled out her phone and furiously swiped at the screen, pretending to be extremely busy.

Time ticked by, second by second.

Half an hour passed, and the terrifying statue of a man hadn't moved an inch.

Unable to take it anymore, Bonnie finally broke the silence, her voice tight with anxiety. "Um... Quentin, it's getting late. Aren't you going to wash up?"

Quentin's hand paused as he turned the page.

He slowly lifted his eyes. His narrow, bottomless, freezing gaze cut through the air, landing heavily on her.

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