Chapter 18 You’re the Best, Jojo

It was nine at night by the time Joseph got home.

The villa was dark and quiet. He changed into his house slippers at the entrance and walked past Chloe’s room, stopping for a moment before raising his hand to knock a few times.

Chloe’s hoarse voice came from inside, “Just a moment.”

As she spoke, a ray of light shone through the crack under the door. After a few seconds, Chloe got to the door. Following a brief pause, she turned the handle and the door creaked open. However, her usual beaming expression had vanished, replaced instead by puffy, reddened eyes and nose, a clear indication that she had been crying for quite some time.

Looking at Chloe in this manner was unsettling for Joseph. She appeared disheartened, akin to a drooping flower drenched by a storm.

“Have you been crying?” he asked.

Chloe sniffled and turned her face to the side. “No.”

“I’m not blind,” he replied calmly.

Chloe was in no mood to argue with him and asked weakly, “What do you want?”

Joseph froze for a while and replied, “Nothing. I’m about to have dinner. Would you like anything?”

She shook her head, believing that he was merely being courteous. At the same time, she chided him inwardly, ‘Working under a capitalist surely isn’t easy. It’s already ten at night and he still wants the chef to come over and cook for him.‘

room, leaving Chloe alone. She shut the door and climbed into bed, clutching the teddy bear her mother had given

off to sleep.

had slept when she was aroused by the smell of food. In the darkness, her stomach grumbled loudly. After wrestling with herself

steaming lemon parsley pasta. He lifted his eyes to glance

watched him skillfully toss a

though it’s just

to the table, changed the channel on the TV to a finance program, and ate gracefully while watching the report. He appeared to be

thought he would offer to share with her, but he did

how to cook for him,

yet

he

1

of it, intentionally blocking Joseph’s view. Then, she made a pouting face and

hungry,” Joseph said in a

you were going to call a chef over and didn’t want to trouble someone so late at night,” she explained. The moment her sentence ended,

with tension.

face, Joseph looked at her and asked, “So you’re

I wasn’t hungry at the time, but now I am. And most importantly, I really want to

in the kitchen. Go get it yourself.” His tone was still chilly, but there was a slight hint

into the kitchen and saw another plate of pasta on the table. Delighted, she brought out the plate and thanked Joseph with a twinkle in her eye. You’re the

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