Chapter 11

The untamed wolf that had yet to grow into its fangs was now an irresistible, doe–eyed pup.

Since he offered himself up willingly, Isabella wondered if she should make the most of him.

But then, she thought of the dark emperor reigning at the pinnacle of the pyramid–a peerless figure of earthly beauty, unattainable as the lofty flower perched on the highest peak.

Isabella ultimately backed down. She couldn’t afford to take that risk.

“No need,” she said lightly. “For now, I’ll stick to what I know best–women’s fashion.”

Theodore’s face revealed a trace of hurt. “Fine, but when you start designing menswear, promise you’ll use me as your model.”

Isabella humored him with a half–hearted response. “Sure.”

Throwing herself into a grueling work routine, Isabella sketched several designs for women’s clothing on scrap paper. She painstakingly selected her favorite design, cut the fabric, and

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sewed it into a finished garment: a grass–green high–waisted. skirt paired with a chic short blazer. Layered over a soft oat- colored blouse, the outfit perfectly balanced feminine grace with a touch of boldness.

Clutching the completed outfit, she set out to pitch her design to local boutiques. Yet, time and again, she was turned away before even meeting the decision–makers. Shop assistants dismissed her outright, sending her packing without a second glance.

The sleepless nights and relentless effort finally took their toll on Isabella’s already fragile health.

One day, as she made porridge for Theodore, her vision darkened. She collapsed onto the kitchen floor, unconscious.

When Theodore noticed her absence, he shouted, “Sis!”

Receiving no reply, he hobbled from room to room searching for her. Eventually, he found her crumpled on the kitchen floor, clutching a dumpling wrapper–his favorite dish. She was curled up, utterly unresponsive.

Theodore’s face went pale: In a burst of frantic energy, carried her down the stairs and rushed to the hospital.

he

full examination, the doctor looked at Theodore

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Chapter 11

on her back. Did she recently

into fists as his blood surged. His face turned ashen.

future?” he asked, his voice choked with anguish..

somber expression and towering height lent him an air of premature maturity. The fragile woman lying in the hospital bed, with her petite frame and doll–like face, looked

of your marital relations. And take proper

crimson. I understand,” he murmured

You should make her nourishing soups–chicken or pigeon broth with red dates and goji berries for her blood.”

heavier as images of Isabella, sickly and overworked, flashed in his mind. He recalled

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11 en Moochert

the nutritious food while she endured her own suffering in

so pure–hearted, yet so

transferred to a general ward, she slowly woke

a hospital bed, she weakly asked, “What happened

his eyes tinged red. “Sis, the doctor said you shouldn’t overwork yourself anymore. Let me

to understand. “You know, don’t

trembling. “Sis, I had no idea you were missing

clouded with sorrow. Painful memories she had tried to

your age back then–young and naive,” she said, her voice soft but heavy. “When I had nowhere to turn, he took me in. He let me go to school, fed me, clothed me. I was

Chapter 11

kidney for his white moonlight, I didn’t hesitate.

her pale face shadowed with bitterness. “Then one day, I accidentally overheard him talking to her. It turned out he‘ d only taken me in so he could have my kidney later. Every kind act of his had

when I changed

meant I didn’t owe him anymore. So,

uncontrollably. “Theodore, don’t

She trembled

softly patted her back and whispered, “Sis, I’ll protect you from now on. I’ll make sure anyone

be like him, using gratitude as a weapon to

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