Forbidden Passion

Chapter 225 Those Hands are for Playing the Piano

If only Phoebe didn't exist, then no one would vie for Theodore's affection.

However, the relentless sound of running water from the guest bathroom jolted Vanessa back to a harsh reality: Theodore and Phoebe were the true married couple, and she was just a temp, potentially a heartbeat away from being kicked out. Vanessa clenched her fists, seething inside.

No, she had to remove Phoebe, the glaring obstacle, before she left for the set. What if Theodore's feelings for Phoebe deepened in the months she'd be gone filming? With this in mind, Vanessa was determined to prove herself, not just to Theodore but also to Mrs. Reynolds, showcasing her homemaking virtues.

"Theodore, your hand is injured, let me cook dinner," Vanessa volunteered eagerly.

Theodore glanced at her delicate hands and said, "Those hands are for playing the piano. If you're hungry, I can order takeout."

"I don't like takeout. It's not sanitary," Vanessa pouted. "Theodore, I know you're concerned about my hands, but I want to cook for the man I love. Please let me." Phoebe emerged with damp hair sticking to her face just in time to hear Vanessa's exaggeratedly sweet voice. She shivered in distaste.

'an

front door opening from the bathroom, inexplicably softened his voice, "Just don't overdo it, okay? If you

at all, I'm more than happy to," Vanessa said as she bounced off

Phoebe in the hall, Vanessa gave her a smug smile. "Miss Ziegler, I've got dinner covered. You just wait

It was just dinner, what was there to

her eye, she noticed the man sitting on the

before knocking and entering

looking fresh with her cheeks flushed from the steam. She was wearing

amazing, though it has a bit of a... funny taste," Mrs. Reynolds commented, dressed in a new gown Phoebe had picked out for her, which fit perfectly, lending her an air of

I've got a few more boxes of that skincare stuff. Take some home. Just let me know when you run out and I'll drop by with more." "Really? That's sweet of you, but I feel like I'm taking advantage," the

the concern, "As long as it makes you happy. You can't put a price on happiness, Mom. You look absolutely stunning in that

Mrs. Reynolds was no exception. She beamed, flattered, "Well,