A deal with the devil

Chapter 12

Just as Shirley was about to step into the kitchen, she suddenly turned back and looked at Benjamin. “Didn’t I just bring you dinner earlier?”

Denjamin didn’t answer, only meeting her gaze with his deep, dark eyes.

After a few seconds of staring at each other, she gave up. “What do you want to eat?”

“Amthing,” he replied

Shirley was speechless.

Anything? Fine, she would make him some plain pasta!

She tied on an apron and stepped into the kitchen. Recalling the moment when Benjamin’s hand touched her back earlier, a ridiculous thought crossed her mind. Was he about to pick her up from the floor?

But the more she thought about it, the more she dismissed it as wishful thinking. With how Benjamin had treated her that evening, there was no way he’d do something so caning.

He must have just intended to wake her up so she could work herself to the bone for him.

suffice. If

a pot to boil and grabbed a pack of pasta. As the water heated, she added some salt, then opened the fridge and pulled out some herbs. After washing the herbs, the water still hadn’t boiled. She glanced

the sofa. In his hand was Shirley’s workbook, the one she had been

as he

was

level of understanding–unable to even grasp basic problems–it would be delusional for her to take over Weiss

for a successor

from a fool. Just

Shirley came out with a plate of pasta that looked and smelled delicious. She placed it in front of Benjamin

the worldbook aside, cast a cold glance at the bowl of pasta, and then looked at her.

the quickest and easiest dish to prepare.

about to admit that. Cleverly, she pointed to the clock.

her immediately. “Or is it because pasta is the easiest

speechless by his question, she forced a smile. “I didn’t want to keep

as Shirley breathed a sigh