Forbidden Passion

Chapter 11 The Burning Flame

Theodore took out his cigarette case, intending to light another one, but Mrs. Reynolds rudely took it away. "Smoke, smoke, do you want towhen will you become as addicted to smoking likeas your father?" Theodore's thin lips formed a straight line, his eyes dark and deeply merging with the night, making him somewhat intimidating.

Startled by his expression, Mrs. Reynolds slapped him on the shoulder since he was her own son. "Why are you giving me that look? I'm your mother."

Theodore remained silent.

Seeing that he didn't answer, Mrs. Reynolds kept rambling, "I actually quite liked Vanessa at the beginning. She's just a bit temperamental, a little scheming. If you two had married, I wouldn't have to worry."

The Fitzroy family was a literary and scholarly family, with many notable figures. Although they were not as wealthy as the Reynolds family, their fame was undeniable.

Now, Vanessa was still a renowned pianist, and it would have been a great honor to have her as a daughter-in-law.

Theodore remained tight-lipped.

Mrs. Reynolds, seeing his stoic expression, couldn't help but sigh. "Saying these things now only brings unnecessary distress. Since you married Phoebe, you should treat her better. In a marriage, a husband should always treat his wife well, at least for three days..."

"They argue so much and lose all their emotions," Theodore thought, his brows furrowing slightly. Did they actually have any emotions between them?

"Even you, who used to be so gentlemanly and polite to Vanessa, now treat Phoebe so poorly. You direct all your bad temper towards her, and she's just a young girl who married into our family. Be kinder to her and don't let others think that we look down on her or mistreat her behind closed doors," Mrs. Reynolds scolded.

Theodore grew increasingly irritated as he listened, "What have I done wrong to her?"

was pregnant and craved sugar-fried chestnuts in the middle of the night, he resisted his exhaustion and drove forty kilometers to wake up his chef to fry some for her. Worried that they might cool down and not taste as good, he wrapped the freshly fried chestnuts in his jacket pocket and raced back to the villa, peeling them

if his chest was burned and swollen, he didn't utter a word of complaint. Aside from not loving her, was he not good to her? And yet she would

two of them respected each other and could be

feel a certain distance. Theodore, you are my son, and I can tell whether you are happy or not. But this marriage was your decision. No one could have stopped you then, and now that things have turned out this

said, "Alright, you understand the reason behind my words. It's up to you whether you want to do something about it. Rest now, I'll go downstairs." Mrs. Reynolds left, and Theodore stood

body already chilled. She stood at the door for a while before walking quietly to

the bed, the quilt was raised in a bundle. She

large enough for three or four people, as long as they didn't intentionally move closer to each other. However, as soon as she laid down, Theodore got

lay still, listening to his footsteps as he went to the study. It seemed that he really detested her, preferring to sit alone in the

lay with her eyes open for a long time. Suddenly, she heard the sound of rain outside the window. She was exhausted today, and before long, she drifted off to sleep, listening to the peaceful sound

Theodore's figure. She let out a sigh of relief, got up, and

his forehead, and his chest rhythmically rising and falling. As Theodore breathed in and out, his chest rose and fell. Phoebe noticed that

as she tiptoed, preparing to

What a perceptive person!.

to clear up the moment he saw her. He immediately sat up, probably sensing something strange about his body.

and knew she couldn't argue with him about this. She could only escape through the

she almost bumped into someone's

her, and their almond-shaped eyes resembled Theodore's to some extent. "Little sister-in-law, why are you running so fast? Is there

to hurt yourself,

age of eight to eighty. Phoebe