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 her as a child. As she held

off

not know how long she had slept when she was aroused by the smell of food. In the darkness, her stomach grumbled loudly. After wrestling with herself for a bit, she gave in to

parsley onto a plate of steaming lemon parsley pasta. He lifted his eyes to glance at the person peeking from the corner

as she watched him

he can cook? Even though it’s just pasta, it

finance program, and ate gracefully while watching the

would offer to share with her, but he did not.

I even thought of taking cooking classes to learn how to cook for him, can’t be bothered to share his food with

yet

he

1

it, intentionally blocking Joseph’s view. Then,

said you weren’t hungry,” Joseph

over and didn’t want to trouble someone so late at

with tension.

at her

wasn’t hungry at the time, but now I am. And

it yourself.” His tone was still chilly, but there was a slight hint of

and saw another plate of pasta on the table. Delighted, she brought out the plate and

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