She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 99

Luther flat-out refused.

He stayed at the hospital that night to watch over her.

Late into the night, after she had fallen asleep, the exhausted man—who had rushed straight back from his trip without even showering—called Lori and told her to bring him some fresh clothes. The poor secretary had just gotten into bed when her phone rang. She lay stiff as a board for a solid minute before finally forcing herself up.

—Nowhere else would pay her a salary this high.

Half an hour later, Lori arrived with a change of clothes, reeking of corporate exhaustion.

Luther met her at the door to grab the bag.

He made no move to invite her inside.

Lori, however, asked with genuine concern, "Is Hilda doing alright?"

Hilda?

Luther frowned slightly—

When had Lori gotten so close to his wife?

He didn't voice the question, merely giving a brief nod. "She's fine."

The door shut right in Lori's face.

Lori: ...

After closing the door, Luther headed straight into the bathroom to wash off. The soundproofing wasn't great, so he took a quick, perfunctory shower, dried off, and stepped back into the suite.

Hilda was sleeping deeply, her face looking incredibly soft in the ambient light.

But the calmer she looked, the more irritated he felt.

She had to have seen the ridiculous garbage printed in the tabloids.

Did she really not care at all?

Luther's eyes darkened. He tossed his towel aside, lifted the covers, and slid into bed next to her. About thirty seconds later, Hilda's voice broke through the silence, sounding utterly fragile. "Luther, I'm still sick."

He wrapped his arms around her from behind.

His body was coiled with tension.

Any grown man deprived for a week would naturally be craving release.

But ultimately, he let her go.

He rolled onto his back, tossing an arm over his eyes, and muttered, "I didn't do anything with her."

Hilda didn't respond. She simply turned her back to him, a knot of discomfort tightening in her chest.

How could she not feel disgusted?

After five years away, her feelings would likely fade, and she would find a new life, a new romance.

...

The man didn't sleep a wink.

As dawn broke, Hilda finally woke up.

Pressed against her back was Luther's burning hot chest.

It took her a moment to remember his sudden arrival the night before.

She remained completely silent.

But Luther knew she was awake.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, his voice slightly hoarse. "What are you thinking about? Are you still upset over Jolie? It was just a corporate retreat. Those tabloid photos were taken out of context. I didn't hug her, and there's absolutely no way anything else happened. If you hate me being around her so much, I'll transfer her to an overseas branch. Let her stay there until this whole thing blows over, and then I'll bring her back to a domestic office... Hilda, we have Annie now, and we'll have more children in the future. We are never getting a divorce. I don't want a divorce, and you'd better drop the idea completely."

Hilda blinked, dazed.

Send Jolie abroad for five years?

And bring her back once those five years were up?

A strange, bitter taste flooded Hilda's heart.