Married To My Billionaire Stepbrother

Chapter 378: Cathy And Vincent

Vincent stepped out of the car and looked up at the apartment building, its windows glowing under the starry sky.

Back after so long... but it feels like I’m finally home.

He entered the building, took the elevator, and headed upstairs. After punching in the password, he stepped inside the apartment and casually made his way to the kitchen, feeling thirsty.

Just as he reached the entrance, a woman wrapped in a bath towel—with her wet hair bundled up in another towel—was pulling out a water bottle.

"You never stop seducing me, do you?" he commented, making the woman jump in fright.

"What the hell?" Cathy gasped, placing a hand over her heart. She hadn’t even realized when he’d entered the apartment. "What are you doing here?"

Ignoring her question, he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a water bottle. "Just because I was gone for a while, you seem to have forgotten I live here too."

"I thought you were gone for good," she said, stepping farther away from him.

He took a sip, then looked at her, giving her a head-to-toe glance. "Tsk. You haven’t improved at all. You’ve dropped to a solid six. Not even slightly seduced."

"I’d rather die a virgin than seduce an ugly, silver-haired deer like you," she snapped, visibly angry and ready to slap the arrogance out of him. "What’s wrong with my body? I’m a ten—it’s your vision that’s deteriorated."

Unfazed by her fury, he placed the empty bottle aside and rummaged through the fridge. "You better hold that towel tight and spare my eyes from the trauma of seeing your not-so-appealing naked body."

"You—!" She looked down, saw her towel slightly loosened, and quickly tightened it—only to notice him pulling out the ice cream pack she had saved for herself.

"That’s mine..." she said, annoyed.

He looked at the pack in his hand. "And now it’s mine," he said, walking out of the kitchen without another glance.

---

Cathy wanted to snatch it back but realized her current state. She rushed to her bedroom, threw off the towels, and quickly slipped into her pajamas.

"That bastard dares to eat my ice cream," she muttered and hurried out of the room, determined to grab it back before he finished it all.

By the time she reached the drawing room, Vincent was sitting comfortably on the sofa, legs stretched out on the center table, enjoying the ice cream while watching TV.

She crept up from behind the sofa, ready to snatch it from his hands—but the moment her hands reached out, one of them was caught in a firm grip. In the next second, she was flipped over as if she weighed nothing and landed flat on the sofa.

"If it had been a stranger," she heard him say coolly, "you’d have landed straight on the center table and come out with your back broken for life. Be thankful you landed on the sofa."

She lifted her head and glared at him angrily.

Getting up, she stood in front of him, deliberately blocking his view of the TV.

my relaxing time," he said

I need it after

his mouth. "It’s already finished," he

stared at it in disbelief. "That was half a kilo! Are you a snow monster to eat it so

predators are around, you’ve got to eat fast before your food gets snatched," he said, holding the empty container out to her. "You can lick

and glanced at the clock. At this hour, the ice cream shops would be closed—no home deliveries either. It

she’d gone out drinking with Mia, and now... no ice cream. She genuinely felt like

as she turned to go back to her room. "Bastard..." she muttered, storming off, unleashing every curse word she knew under her

the empty container in his hands, then frowned

thought, pulling out his phone and making a quick call to his people. After giving some orders, he returned to

later, the

bed, grumbled, "Who the hell is at the door at this hour? Must be someone for that

bell continued to ring for a while, but no one opened

wet hair—she had skipped drying due to her

like someone’s asking to die at

out of bed and walked into the drawing room,

rang again, and she flung the door

this

clothes—a T-shirt and trousers—holding a few familiar-looking boxes inside

he

at the ice cream packs in

mumbled, glancing toward the closed door of the guest room. "That jerk seems to have some humanity

man who tortures a woman by eating her favorite ice cream and not giving her any, can’t be called

the rest in the refrigerator, and plopped down on the sofa—finally enjoying her ice

—-

tried to shake

gift boxes were stacked on the wooden platform

already dressed and ready to

to thank

them out. The fragrance from all

walking toward the

she said

then, the

door—only to be met with

to finally open the door

stood before him, holding

I’ve been tolerating you girls for the sake of not upsetting the young, accepting the trash you bring

shrank

Vincent cut in smoothly, flashing them