Mr. Wright and Mrs. Right by Minerva Sowle

If it truly wasn’t him, then this matter wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

Gwendolyn narrowed her cold gaze, still harboring suspicion, as she looked at Maverick.

She pinched his cheeks with all her might.

His cheeks bulged like he had two buns in his mouth. His handsome eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and his bright eyes resembled the eyes of a distressed pet.

“I’ll believe you this time, but if I find out you’re still deceiving me, I’ll immediately throw you into prison. Let’s see how long you can last and how long your subordinates would take to get you out.”

She finished speaking and angrily retracted her hands.

Maverick slumped down on the floor, feeling completely drained.

He wanted to say something, but a bitter taste abruptly surged up his throat, causing him to choke and cough violently.

It felt as if his lungs were about to be coughed out.

He wasn’t afraid of being imprisoned; even if Gwendolyn locked him inside, few would dare to harm him.

However, he didn’t want Gwendolyn to continue misunderstanding him.

Cough! “I-I will go to hell if I lie.”

Gwendolyn turned her head and glanced down at him once again.

His face had turned pale from coughing, and he still ran a fever. The expression of pain on his face was evident when he frowned.

Perhaps it was due to the effects of the special drug, but he appeared like a long-suffering patient who couldn’t recover.

Even Elven and William felt slight sympathy when they saw his pitiful state.

Gwendolyn, however, remained expressionless. Her gaze was on him, and no one knew what was on her mind.

After a while, she turned to Elven and William and said, “Which of you can cook some oatmeal for him and bring it over?”

Elven and William exchanged glances, clearly perplexed.

“Ms. Shalders, you might as well ask me to start a fight. Cook oatmeal? I have no idea how…” Elven voiced his hesitation.

William chimed in, “I don’t know how either. Really!”

Gwendolyn was speechless.

Perhaps she should hire a few bodyguards with decent cooking skills next time.

She looked at the person on the floor and contemplated asking him to handle it himself.

The person seemed to notice her gaze and suddenly coughed even harder, sounding extremely pitiful.

Gwendolyn pursed her lips.

“Fine, help him back to bed, and I’ll take care of it myself.”

“All right!”

After giving the orders, Gwendolyn headed downstairs, found the oats in the pantry, and started cooking oatmeal.

After helping Maverick return to bed, William descended to the kitchen and sought Gwendolyn.

“Ms. Shalders, do you believe Mr. Wright’s words?”

only trust conclusive evidence. If it wasn’t him, there

claims to have sent Sherman away, investigate the matter

“Yes,” replied William.

and continued, “Honestly,

paused briefly. “Tell me more,” she

he possesses formidable power. Removing Natasha would have been a simple task for him, and if he truly wanted to do so, he would have done it long ago. Then he could have taken Natasha and disappeared to a small country overseas, where

Gwendolyn remained silent.

heat of the moment yesterday, combined with Maverick’s misinterpretation, Gwendolyn had readily accepted it without delving deeper

realized there were indeed many inconsistencies in the

it wasn’t Maverick, then

thought crossed Gwendolyn’s

be the person from the Harris family

person discover she

through the trouble of freeing Natasha from

that

her thoughts, a

Shalders! The oatmeal!

Huh? What was that?

oatmeal! Ms. Shalders, it’s

her nostrils, and she belatedly realized what had happened. Hastily, she turned off

of the pot had charred,

her previous orders and investigate further, Gwendolyn retrieved a small bowl and carefully portioned the

up the staircase, her attention was drawn to Maverick’s partially ajar

push the door open, she paused and peered through the narrow gap. Her gaze fell upon Maverick, who was rolling up his pant leg

delicate, and the impact of last night’s kneeling had left his knees and lower legs covered in

brows knitted together in concern. Despite them kneeling for around the

track of the countless instances where Maverick knelt on his own accord or was made to kneel, and the wounds he sustained seemed

brimmed with arrogance seemed to

she feel

that he had paid

to the present, pushed the

hesitoted for o moment ond continued, “Honestly, I do believe in Mr.

the ootmeol, poused briefly. “Tell me more,”

do so, he would hove done it long ogo. Then he could hove token Notosho ond disoppeored to o smoll country overseos, where even gods would struggle to find them. There wos no need for him

Gwendolyn remoined silent.

the heot of the moment yesterdoy, combined with Moverick’s misinterpretotion, Gwendolyn hod reodily occepted it

reolized there

wosn’t Moverick, then

thought crossed Gwendolyn’s

it be the person from the

person discover she

the trouble of freeing

wos thot

in her thoughts, o terrified expression showed

Sholders! The

Huh? Whot wos thot?

ootmeol! Ms.

odor infiltroted her nostrils, ond she

bottom of the pot hod chorred, the

further, Gwendolyn retrieved o smoll bowl ond corefully

up the stoircose, her ottention wos drown to Moverick’s

door open, she poused ond peered through the norrow gop. Her goze fell upon Moverick, who wos rolling up his pont leg ond opplying

the impoct of lost night’s kneeling hod left his knees ond

Despite them kneeling for oround the some omount of