My Secret Husband Is My Cold Boss novel Chapter 99

"You're delusional."

Wyatt had no desire to waste another word on her. He turned and started walking away.

Before he could even round the front of the car, Willa sprinted forward and grabbed his arm.

Having been spoiled her entire life, those last two words completely shattered whatever rational thought she had left.

She clung to Wyatt's arm, shoving and pinching him frantically. "Wyatt, you are not leaving! We are settling this right now!"

"Who are you calling delusional!"

Wyatt allowed her to push and hit him like a maniac, maintaining complete silence.

His lack of response only infuriated Willa more.

She screamed, "Get this straight, I'm your sister!"

"Wendy is already married. Even if you stand up for her, she's never going to look twice at you."

Wyatt frowned deeply.

Willa instantly caught that subtle shift in his expression.

She paused, glancing toward the stairwell before a look of horrific realization crossed her face.

"Now it all makes sense!"

"No wonder you suddenly told Mom you wanted to go on a blind date, and specifically asked for a doctor!"

"Wendy got married and you're still obsessing over her!"

"Wyatt!"

Wendy snapped back to reality.

A suffocating wave of tension gripped her chest, making her draw in a sharp, trembling breath.

The car was moving.

It wasn't until they exited the garage that Wendy realized Sampson was driving away to help her escape the confrontation.

"Give Dr. Sullivan a call," Sampson said, casting a brief look at Wendy.

He gestured with his chin. "Just tell him something came up and you'll be thirty minutes late."

"You covered his shift last time. He owes you this much."

"Right, okay." Still a bit dazed, Wendy pulled her phone from her coat pocket.

They drove out of the underground garage.

With no real destination in mind, Sampson simply drove her through the quiet residential streets nearby.

"Wait here." Sampson unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car.

There were about five or six people ahead of him.

Dressed in his tailored trench coat, Sampson stood patiently at the back of the line.

Even just standing there, he was effortlessly the most striking person in the crowd.

Wendy watched his back the entire time.

She watched as he returned, holding a steaming paper cup.

"Eat up."

The rich, comforting aroma of the broth instantly filled the car.

"Thank you." Wendy reached out to take it.

The paper cup had been warmed the whole way back, carrying not just the heat of the soup, but the lingering warmth of Sampson's palm.

Wendy looked down at a steaming skewer right in the center.

She pressed her lips together.

Taking a quiet breath, she asked, "Sampson, aren't you going to ask me anything?"