The Wrong Girl and the Wronged Girl (Stella and Ethan) novel Chapter 819

If she kept squirming like that, something serious was bound to happen. Victor’s rough, low voice–stern and slightly hoarse–froze Tessa in place.

But just a heartbeat later, she turned her head, looking up at him with wounded eyes.

Maybe it was the fever; her eyes shimmered wet and glassy…

And that sight cracked open something inside the man who’d always been cold and unyielding.

His hard expression softened. “You have to take the medicine, sweetheart. Be good.”

Victor, who had never in his life known how to coax a woman, somehow found the patience to speak to Tessa in the gentlest way imaginable.

At last, under his persistent care, Tessa sipped the medicine little by little until she finally finished it. It took nearly half an hour to drink just that small cup–half an hour of grimaces and protests.

If it had been anyone else, Victor would’ve kicked them halfway across the room for being so slow.

But the truth was–he wasn’t incapable of gentleness; he’d just never had anyone to be gentle

with.

And now that he had someone who’d carved out a place in his heart, how could he ever bring himself to be rough with her? Even if she made a fuss all night, he’d still hold her and soothe her until she quieted down.

When the medicine was gone, Tessa pouted, whining softly, “It’s bitter… I want an orange.”

She looked up at Victor with pleading eyes.

“An orange?” he repeated.

Tessa sniffled pitifully. “Orange. I want an orange.”

“You’ve got a cold; you can’t eat something that cold.”

“I want it!” she insisted.

It was a habit she couldn’t shake–whenever she took bitter medicine or had too much to drink, she always craved oranges. Only that cool, bright burst of citrus could cut through the heat twisting inside her.

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Chapter 81

And right now, she was burning up–shivering one moment, searing the next, like she was trapped beneath a sun that wouldn’t let up.

She thought hazily. I’m drying out from the inside.

Eventually, Victor gave in and asked the front desk to send up some oranges, along with other

fruit.

But Tessa ignored everything else–she only wanted oranges.

After eating one, she held out her hand again. “More.”

Her tone was full of that blissful satisfaction that only came from something she truly loved. She adored the taste of oranges.

Victor frowned slightly at the bowl beside them. “You sure you can eat more of these?”

“Oranges have vitamin C. If I eat them, my cold will get better faster.”

Whether that was true or not, Tessa said it with total confidence–she’d say anything if it meant getting another one.

Victor didn’t quite buy it.

After all, she’d caught this cold because he’d let her have her way earlier–insisting on cooking soup out on the terrace in the freezing air. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.

Still, to be sure, he pulled out his phone and searched whether people with colds could eat

oranges.

Thankfully, the internet assured him that vitamin–rich fruits were fine.

Only then did he let her have another.

And that second orange completely lifted her spirits.

“That feels so good.”

The cool, tangy flavor washed away the dryness in her mouth; for the first time all night, she felt comfortable.

Victor watched her, shaking his head with a helpless sigh. “You…”

Meanwhile, Dale still hadn’t left.

He hadn’t gotten anything useful out of Tessa, and now he was waiting to see Victor.

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The Ashen Pact was already in total disarray…

He’d driven over a hundred kilometers; if he didn’t at least manage to ease the conflict within the faction, the whole trip would’ve been for nothing.

He hadn’t come all the way to Echo Peak just to turn around empty–handed.

But even getting to Tessa had been difficult enough–and seeing Victor was practically impossible.

Trevor found out which room Victor was staying in, and Dale went straight there to knock.

Trevor knocked for a long time, but there was no response inside.

He turned nervously to Dale. “Sir, it seems Mr. Victor doesn’t wish to see you.”

Dale’s face darkened, his expression thunderous.

“Knock again,” he growled through gritted teeth. Unbelievable.

The man could charm his daughter with a smile, yet show her father nothing but contempt— and still have the gall to expect his blessing for the marriage.

Fury churned in Dale’s chest. “Keep knocking,” he snapped.

The more he thought about it–the long trip, the cold, and now his daughter and future son–in law both giving him attitude–the more he seethed.

Young people these days… completely out of line!

At his command, Trevor had no choice but to keep pressing the doorbell. The shrill sound echoed sharply in the quiet night.

When the chime stopped, he pressed it again. And again.

Just as he was about to hit it one more time, the door suddenly flew open from the inside.

Before Trevor could react, a boot slammed squarely into his stomach.

He grunted in pain, folding over as he fell backward onto the hallway floor, clutching his abdomen.

Dale froze, his fury momentarily pierced by shock.

Then he looked up—and saw Victor step out of the room, his entire presence radiating cold, lethal danger.

The look on his face was enough to make the air turn icy.