Mission: From Divorcee to Millionaire

Selena threw him a bewildered look. 'Seriously, is he even human? I'm this sick, and he still...'

Annoyed, she turned her head away, managing to hold back her tears.

Everett took a deep breath, trying to calm his arousal. He set up the small tray on the bed and placed a bowl of plain oatmeal on it. "Didn't you say you were hungry? I just went to get you something to eat."

Even though his words were meant to be kind, his actions and tone came off so irritated that it was hard to feel any gratitude.

Selena's gaze landed on the steaming bowl of oatmeal, the warmth enticing her empty stomach. She couldn't help but swallow.

She remembered Ava wasn't around, so she casually asked, "When did you order takeout?"

Had he timed it perfectly so the food would be ready when she woke up?

Reading her thoughts, Everett frowned and pushed the spoon into her hand with clear annoyance. "It's just oatmeal, not rocket science." Was he implying that he made it himself?

Did he actually cook? That was shocking for someone of his status, who had never set foot in a kitchen.

at her lips. She asked sincerely, "It's not poisoned,

incredulously, "Your life isn't valuable enough for me to go down with

rolled up, showing off the muscular lines of his forearms-sexy and strong. But his shirt was clearly wrinkled, with dried sweat stains on the chest, his eyes were red,

take care of her, knowing she'd be hungry when she woke up and had even taken the

realized Selena figured

unspoken, "It's my first time making

at him, and instantly

cook oatmeal for

just a bowl of oatmeal. It's not like you whipped up a five-star

at

him. "Hand over my phone. I want to order something myself. Even if I

no longer the naive girl who could be easily swayed by

taken aback by her lack of appreciation. His face darkened, and his mood turned

small gestures. Selena

sat down, his dark eyes narrowing,