The Ceo’s Convict Wife by Jennifer Mike novel Chapter 221

Chapter 221 

On the other end of the phone, Amelia’s voice came through, “Rosalie, Aiden’s surgery went very smoothly. The doctor said that once Aiden adjusts in the next couple of days, we can start systematic training to help him recognize sounds.” 

“That’s wonderful,” Rosalie expressed her joy. “All right, I’ll come to see Aiden this afternoon.” 

With that, Rosalie confirmed the specific hospital ward where Aiden was located and ended the call. 

“Is it about that child who can’t hear?” Jonathan asked as he looked at Rosalie. 

“Yes, Aiden’s surgery went well. Since I have some free time this afternoon, I plan to visit him at the hospital,” Rosalie explained. 

“In that case, I’ll accompany you,” Jonathan said. 

“You’ll accompany me?” Rosalie widened her eyes in surprise. “But… don’t you have to work?” 

“I’ll have my secretary reschedule my afternoon appointments; they’re not urgent anyway,” Jonathan said casually. 

However, Rosalie had a feeling that in a company as large as his, being the CEO meant that nearly everything was an “urgent matter.” 

“Why, don’t you want me to accompany you?” he asked in return. 

“Not… not at all,” she replied. Honestly, his willingness to accompany her was both surprising and sweet. 

“Then it’s settled,” Jonathan said, lowering his head to continue eating. 

Rosalie followed suit, focusing on her meal. When she was nearly finished, she heard his voice in her ear. “Rosie, can you cook for me more often in the future?” 

ע 

She was taken aback, lifting her head to meet his obsidian eyes. 

He suddenly gave a gentle smile, raising his hand to wipe something from the corner of her lips. She then realized there was a pesto stain there. 

Her face flushed once again as if she blushed so easily in front of him. “Is that okay?” his voice echoed, asking for her answer. 

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The Ceo’s Convict Wife 

“I cook very ordinary dishes, not as good as your household chef,” she replied. 

“So what? I like what you cook because you made it,” he said. 

Her eyes reflected a hint of doubt. Even if he didn’t hold high culinary expectations, why would he desire her “ordinary” dishes on a regular basis? After all, the professional chef in his residence operated on a completely different level. 

Could he be saying this merely to please her? A form of sweet talk, akin to seeing beauty through the eyes of a lover? After all, he had previously professed his fondness for anything she did. 

Sensing her uncertainty, he gently elaborated, “Rosie, I find it endearing when you dedicate your time to me. When you prepare these dishes, your thoughts are undoubtedly centered on me, right? So when I enjoy your cooking, it brings me happiness because it’s something crafted by your hands…” 

His possessiveness appeared to deepen, perhaps even to an intimidating degree. He yearned to claim even her culinary creations. 

His soft-spoken words resonated like a pebble dropped into the serene pond of her heart, causing ripples. His gaze, voice, and words all consistently conveyed the depth of his affection. 

It wa 

as though he was communicating that she was truly unique to him. 

It seemed he derived immense joy from even the smallest gestures she made. 

She couldn’t help but contemplate whether she held such significance in his life. After all, their acquaintance spanned a mere six months. Could his emotions for her genuinely run so profoundly? 

However, it appeared he had no motive to deceive her, 

She had nothing to offer him at present, so there was no apparent incentive for him to be dishonest, was there? 

“Rosie, is that okay?” His compelling voice, brimming with an irresistible longing, repeated the same question for the third time. 

“Well… when I have some free time, I’ll prepare more for you,” she replied, finally regaining her composure, although her heart continued to 

race. 

“Excellent,” he said with a gentle smile. 

Rosalie swiftly lowered her head and began tidying up the lunchboxes on 

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The Ceo’s Convict Wife 

the table. Just as she was about to close the lunchbox lid, she suddenly let out a soft exclamation. Instinctively, she pulled her hand back, sharply inhaling due to the pain. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously. 

“It’s nothing, I accidentally broke a nail. I’ll trim it later,” she replied. She usually kept her nails well-maintained, but in the past few days, she had overlooked it, and they had grown slightly longer than usual. 

“Let me see,” he said, reaching for her hand to examine the nail that had been slightly damaged. “Is it this one?” Gently, he held her left index finger, noticing a tiny crack at the edge of the nail. A quick trim should resolve the issue. 

“Yes.” She nodded. 

“Wait a moment,” he said, picking up his phone and dialing his secretary’s number. “Do you have any nail clippers there?” 

Upon hearing this, Rosalie almost choked on her saliva. 

Another person about to be choked with surprise was the secretary who answered the call. She couldn’t fathom why her CEO had called to ask for a nail clipper. 

Did the CEO want to trim his nails? Puzzled and bewildered, she entered the CEO’s Office with a nail clipper in hand. Inside, she found Rosalie 

and Jonathan sitting on the couch. 

“Mr. Youngblood, here are the nail clippers you requested.” The secretary respectfully handed them over.