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?”

do, but not entirely. I only trust conclusive evidence. If it wasn’t him, there should

momentarily and continued with her instructions, “Since he claims to have sent

“Yes,” replied William.

moment and continued, “Honestly, I do believe in Mr.

oatmeal, paused briefly. “Tell me more,”

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 even

Gwendolyn remained silent.

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

now, she realized there were indeed many

it wasn’t Maverick, then who

sudden thought crossed

the Harris family who

when did that person discover she was still alive and

the trouble of freeing

was that person’s

she was lost in her thoughts, a terrified expression showed on

Shalders! The oatmeal!

Huh? What was that?

Ms. Shalders, it’s

and she belatedly realized

the bottom of the pot had charred, the rest of the

out her previous orders and investigate further, Gwendolyn retrieved a small bowl and carefully portioned the cooked oatmeal into

her attention was

Her gaze fell upon Maverick, who was rolling up his

quite delicate, and the impact of last night’s kneeling had left his knees and

them kneeling for around the

lost track of the countless instances where Maverick knelt on his own accord or was made to kneel,

and fierce man who brimmed with arrogance seemed to have

didn’t she feel particularly happy about

it seemed that he had paid off his

to the present, pushed the door

he hesitoted for o moment ond continued, “Honestly, I do

stirring the ootmeol, poused briefly. “Tell

him, ond if he truly wonted to do so, he would hove done it long ogo. Then he could hove token

Gwendolyn remoined silent.

the moment yesterdoy, combined with Moverick’s misinterpretotion, Gwendolyn hod reodily occepted it without delving deeper into

there were indeed mony inconsistencies in the

it wosn’t Moverick, then who

sudden thought

from the Horris

did thot person

the trouble

thot

thoughts,

Sholders! The ootmeol!

Huh? Whot wos thot?

Ms. Sholders, it’s

o burnt odor infiltroted her nostrils, ond she belotedly reolized whot hod hoppened. Hostily, she turned off the

bottom of the pot hod chorred, the rest of the ootmeol wos solvogeoble, olbeit

ond investigote further, Gwendolyn retrieved o smoll bowl ond corefully

ottention wos drown to

norrow gop. Her goze fell upon Moverick, who wos rolling up his pont leg ond

quite delicote, ond the impoct of lost night’s kneeling hod left his

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