The Contracted Ever After (Cordelia and Ronan) novel Chapter 475

Cordelia had the urge to slap him again, but the moment she moved her arm, he grasped her wrist. She felt as if he was overshadowing her entirely, leaving her helpless. Finally, he let go of her.

Cordelia’s cheeks were flushed. She could smell something burning in the air. Annoyed, she exclaimed, "The tarts are burnt!”

“Who cares about your egg tarts.” Ronan retorted, gritting his teeth. “All you care about is food.”

“That’s all I care about.” Cordelia coldly responded. “Why should I care if the child is yours or not? It's not my problem.”

“You left the country because of this, didn’t you?” His voice was hoarse and low.

“There are many reasons for leaving the country. The one and only explanation is, it's time to break up.”

Ronan suddenly burst into laughter. “Who decided it's time to break up? You? Or did you leave because you have a secret? You’re so beautiful, didn’t you find someone abroad to have a fling with?”

Of course, Ronan was referring to the pictures sent in the mysterious text messages. Cordelia had a rich romantic past. And she never lacked for suitors. Damn, it was enough to drive a man crazy with jealousy, to make him want to pin her down and vent his frustration.

But the current Ronan was somewhat hesitant. He had been assertive before, and it had always repelled Cordelia. So this time, seeing her again, he didn't want to mess things up. He was being careful.

Ronan's fingers gently caressed Cordelia's delicate skin. “You bastard!” Cordelia exclaimed.

Ronan studied Cordelia, who was becoming more and more beautiful and attractive. Before, she was just a delicate daisy, but now she had become a captivating poppy.

The moment he saw her at his grandfather’s doorstep, he knew something was different about her. But he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Now, she had developed a sophisticated allure, with the charm of an intellectual, yet not too pretentious, just enough to make a man infatuated.

He gently touched her skin. “How about I change your nickname on Messenger to Poppy?”

“Don’t.” Cordelia turned her head away. She knew the poppy was the original flower of opium, the source of evil, an omen of misfortune. She didn't want to be associated with that.

“Your say doesn't count.” Ronan gazed at Cordelia with desire in his eyes. Cordelia gritted her teeth. It was not her phone, so of course, she had no say.

Ronan's hands moved to unclasp her bra from behind. Cordelia raised her hand to slap him, but missed as he dodged.

Callum had appeared at the kitchen door at some point. “Mom, Dad, what are you doing? The egg tarts are burnt.” Callum said.