Returning with Triple Treasures: My CEO Husband Is Obsessed novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Mask of Apathy

She nodded, her expression pure provocation. “I did. Don’t you think it’s… fivety?”

Though Xavier’s face remained an impassive mask, she could feel the atmospheric pressure in the room plummet to a dangerous low. The very air seemed to congeal with frost.

Xavier was silent for a long, tense moment before he spoke, his voice dripping with disdain. “It seems some things are innate. A fundamentally vulgar sensibility can’t help but manifest in appalling taste.”

“Exactly! Only you understand me, Mr. Moore,” Isabella chirped back, undeterred. “I adore things with… personality. A home should make you feel something, don’t you think?” Internally, she shrugged. As long as it was exorbitantly expensive, it was all going on Xavier’s account anyway,

Emma seized the moment to interject. “Mr. Moore, shall I make a call? We can still cancel the orders for these… items…”

“Leave it.”

With those two clipped words, Xavier turned his face away, refusing to bestow another second of his attention on the garish living roomt.

Emma was visibly stunned, her expression twisting as if she’d swallowed something vile. How could Xavier tolerate this tasteless woman?

Isabella herself felt a flicker of surprise. This wasn’t following her script. By her calculations, Xavier should have been ordering her

out by now.

Recovering, she deliberately reached for Xavier’s hand. “Are you hungry, darling? Let’s have dinner. I went to the trouble of preparing it myself tonight.”

In the past, any physical contact from her had made him recoil as if touched by something contagious, his disgust palpable.

True to form, Xavier immediately tried to withdraw his hand.

But Isabella was quicker, latching onto his arm with both of hers in a tenacious grip.

“Let. Go.” The command was a low rumble of barely–contained fury,

A familiar icy dread prickled over Isabella’s skin, but she forced herself to lean closer, her voice a parody of wifely affection. “Why so tense? It’s perfectly normal for a married couple to hold hands. Consider it me exercising my conjugal rights.”

Xavier glared down at her, a silent war raging in his eyes. Yet, to her continued astonishment, he didn’t shake her off.

The dining table was already set with an array of dishes,

“Here, try this. I made it just for you.” Isabella sat down and immediately picked up a piece of glazed pork ribs–its rich, caramel- red sauce glossy under the lights–and held it toward his mouth.

Xavier’s brow furrowed, and he leaned back, evading the offered bite.

Unfazed, Isabella deposited the morsel eagerly into his plate. The dish looked deceptively sweet, the glaze a vibrant red. What it concealed, however, was a punishing amount of rehydrated ghost pepper puree she’d blended into the sauce.

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Chapter 11 Mask of Apathy

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Even a seasoned spice–lover would find it punishing. For Xavier, who had always avoided even mildly spicy food, it would be pure

agony.

The thought of the perpetually composed, formidable Xavier reduced to a tearful, sniffling mess was almost too delightful. She mentally cursed not having her phone at the ready.

Noticing the woman watching him with an expectant, almost gleeful smile, the fork Xavier had just picked up froze mid–air.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No,” sabella said, too quickly, averting her gaze. “I’m just… eager to hear your opinion of my cooking.”

Her words caused a subtle darkening in Xavier’s eyes. It was true. Five years ago, Isabella couldn’t have managed a full meal, much less a complicated glaze.

Back when she started at Moore Group, she’d been like a young woman raised with every advantage–utterly hopeless at domestic tasks, needing guidance on the simplest things. The saying that hardship breeds self–sufficiency clearly hadn’t applied to her then.

“Have you been cooking for yourself all these years?” he asked, his voice curiously flat.

Isabella had assumed avoiding eye contact would make him finally take a bite. Instead, he set his fork down entirely.

Irritation flared. “Yes, I haven’t had the luxury of a life like yours, Mr. Moore. Some of us have to manage on our own.”

“Then why did you run away?”

His voice was low, the final words almost inaudible.

“I’d be dead by now if I hadn’t run from you and Linda…” Isabella murmured the words softly, more to herself than to him.

Xavier didn’t catch it. “What did you say?” he asked, his tone deepening.

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