Chapter 295 I feed you, and you still don't want to eat?

The servant didn't dare go up and stood aside, saying, "I don't want to. Why don't you go?"

The head chef glared and said, "My job is to cook."

This was the head chef's first encounter with such a situation. Seeing the gourmet dishes being reheated repeatedly, he muttered, "What's going on? Did Sylvester make Lela sick?"

The maid beside him blushed, lowered her head, and said nothing.

It wasn't an illness; Lela and Sylvester had been having sex all night.

While they were shirking responsibility downstairs, they heard Lela's voice from upstairs. "No, I don't want to."

She wanted to sleep.

Sylvester was holding Lela, her slender legs dangling beside him, her hands irritably messing with Sylvester's soft hair.

kept one arm around her, indulging her whims, and said in his usual gentle

was afraid that the torment she suffered in her

he paid special attention to

meal,

mess with his hair, and said in a frustrated voice, "It's all your fault, all your fault." She was

the dining room, chuckling, "Now you blame me, but you didn't

was very cooperative and even

said nothing and buried her head in his neck to bite

quiet as no one dared to

treated like this; his hair

was the bad-tempered and

their eyes in

still admired him; even like

reflecting on the fact that only Lela dared to treat

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