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.

pasta would suffice. If he

some water into 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

room, Benjamin sat on the sofa. In his hand was Shirley’s workbook, the

he read

adamantly refused divorce, she was

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

had started looking for a successor

her capabilities, she was no different from a fool. Just how did she even

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

a cold glance at the bowl of pasta, and then looked at her. “Is this all you can make? Pasta?

Pasta was the quickest

about to admit that. Cleverly, she pointed to the clock. “It’s so late. Something light is better for your

is it because

forced a smile. “I didn’t want to keep

breathed a sigh of relief, he suddenly looked up and said, “Shirley,