His Precious Love

Chapter 156 Not The Flesh

Rayna felt something was amiss as soon as the words left her lips, so she instinctively turned around.

The man in a wheelchair quickly came into her line of sight. While holding a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand, he regarded her curiously with his brows quirked.

“T-The door…” She attempted to talk her way out of the situation by pointing out that the door was not locked, but her plan was foiled, for the access card was right in her hand. “All right, I unlocked the door myself.”

Curtis chuckled, unfazed by the situation. “Didn’t you say you hired housekeepers for me?” he asked.

“The housekeepers weren’t adequately trained during their time in their company, so I was afraid they wouldn’t be able to take good care of you, Mr. Faymon.” She then brought over the ingredients and the two stalks of roses.

“Oh right, here’s your one million— Blah. I mean, your roses, Mr. Faymon,” said Rayna, correcting herself immediately. “The place we’re staying at is too small, so Jessie asked me to return two of the roses to you.”

“They’re just roses. There’s no need to return them to me.”

Curtis’ nonchalant attitude infuriated Rayna.

These aren’t ordinary roses! They’re money!

Yet, she was not gutsy enough to utter those thoughts aloud nor tell him that the roses were a waste of money. After all, the man was worth hundreds of billion. Thus, Rayna sped toward the kitchen to prepare breakfast, but not before telling the man, “Mr. Faymon, you shouldn’t drink coffee on an empty stomach. I’ll be making stew for you as breakfast.”

Curtis said nothing in response as his gaze landed on the cup of coffee in his hand, and for the first time in forever, he did just as he was told and set the cup down.

Soon, the metallic smell of blood wafted up his nose. The curious man wheeled himself toward the kitchen to investigate the unpleasant scent.

He could not quite control his expression when he noticed Rayna was dealing with some animal innards.

“What’s that?”

“Pork bung!” the woman responded without turning back, thus missing the change in his expression. “I got it from the market just now, so it’s super fresh. I’ll make it into a stew for you.”

Curtis took a deep breath. “Didn’t I tell you I don’t eat pork?”

“But it’s pork bung, not pig’s flesh,” Rayna retorted. She then brought it to the front of his face. “Does it look like flesh to you?”

of a pig,” said the man, his tone laced with disdain. He then moved backward, putting some distance between himself and

she was utterly

care of him? He’s way too f*cking picky for his age! Does he have fancy delicacies every day? Why isn’t he sick of them

sounded when Rayna tossed the pork bung into the basin. Feeling a surge of courage, she straightened her back and bellowed at him, “It’s up to you whether you want to eat it

gazed up at her, his obsidian eyes boring into hers.

no! He’s not angry,

about to bite the bullet and utter an apology, he spun his wheelchair around and exited the

Rayna patted her chest and let

ingredients from the market. The night before, she even called Linda and asked

in the fridge once she was done. Upon noticing the water was boiling, she placed the marinated pork innards into the pot, along with

gas and garnished the stew.

brought the pot over to the dining table. Seeing that Curtis was in midst of reading the papers, she called

arrived, he fixed his gaze on the bowl of

his housekeepers dared to go against his wishes. Rayna was the only one who would make him have food that he disliked time

them being beef patties. That time

so, Curtis held it

savoring and enjoying the dish, let alone eating it, and at long last,

but when he savored it along with the marinated pork innards, its distinct taste instantly permeated his mouth, spreading to every single one of his tastebuds. The delicious stew warmed

brow and commented, “Not

quite like that before, and it was much more delicious than he expected it to be.

across her face when she heard his praises. “Of course! I

halt. Wait, why am I telling him this? What if he thinks I’m trying to garner sympathy? At that thought, she did not

Curtis queried, “What did

in, Mr. Faymon. It won’t taste as good when it gets

sharp to notice the tiny blisters on her middle finger. He grabbed her hand and took a closer look at it. The

how she was hesitant to speak earlier, he instantly connected the dots and felt his heart clench at the

to make sure I’d enjoy a good bowl of stew, so she practiced making the dish at home for a long time and accidentally scalded herself in

guard, and the heat of his palm sent a blush to her

call, Mr. Faymon.” She pulled her hand away and swiftly

was a call