Mr. Wright and Mrs. Right by Minerva Sowle

As Gwendolyn slipped on her slippers, she observed him closely.

She took off her trench coat and handed it to him.

Maverick paused for a second. His long eyelashes drooped slightly, and his handsome face was pale.

He obediently took the trench coat from Gwendolyn and helped her hang it on the coat rack.

He did not take the initiative to speak, completely unlike his usual attentive and diligent self.

Gwendolyn’s expression grew darker and darker.

Maverick did not notice at all and turned his head to glance at the clock on the living room wall.

It was almost noon already.

He eagerly headed to the kitchen to prepare a meal.

Gwendolyn sat on the couch with an imposing posture.

“Come here.” Her tone was cold when she spoke, leaving no room for interruption.

Maverick’s broad back stiffened for a moment, then he turned around, walked to her, and stood still.

She did not look up, her expression somewhat cold. “I remember someone once said they wouldn’t make me look up to them.”

Maverick did not budge, feeling awkward as he noticed her attitude toward him remained icy cold.

Did Treyton really not tell her that I was the one who saved her? Anyway, did Gwendolyn come back today to settle the score of my attending the charity gala with Samantha?

He had thought he could balance his merits and demerits. Suddenly, he felt a suffocating tightness in his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

“Hmm?”

It was an imposing hum, possessing a delicate, gentle tone produced uniquely by women.

Gwendolyn was growing a bit impatient.

Maverick froze for two seconds, then went down on one knee, slowly squatting in front of her feet. His eyes were still downcast, and his eyelashes trembled gently.

Gwendolyn sensed his awkwardness, which made her feel even more confused. She gently lifted his chin with her fingertips, forcing him to look up.

Their eyes met.

tinged with a hint of red. Within his deep black pupils lay a sense of vulnerability and grievance that he tried

looked as though he had

Gwendolyn’s frown deepened.

even asked anything yet,

Harris seemed to have said you’re not allowed to go out.

clenching his heart, the

her chin a little higher. “What’s the

recuperating,” he responded curtly. His voice was deep and hoarse, yet his tone

the matter with

“I’m running a fever.”

staying in the villa for two days without going out, and it had not rained during that time. How

fever these past

more or less had

her grip on his chin. “Don’t just squat there. Sit on the couch

up, and sat directly on the small

already relatively weak. After he squatted for just a short while, his legs began to feel numb, and

longer, he was afraid

a glass of water and continued to ask, “What happened to Quinton’s injuries? Who

apple unconsciously moved slightly. Without skipping a beat, he said casually, “I’ve been lying in my room for two days, so I’m not sure. Maybe

willing to tell her

any longer and returned to the main topic.

speak when Gwendolyn stared at him intently, reminding

Samantha was just carrying out orders. There was someone

He had spoken too much that his throat felt as though

with amusement as she stared at him. “You’re telling me about joining forces, but aren’t you afraid I’ll become suspicious of you, thinking you’re deliberately

hear the truth from me, I won’t hide it from you.” As for whether she believed him or not, that was

her knee. She tilted her head to look at him and gave

slightly parted. “He

Nico?

furrowed her brows, sensing he was

things out and roughly

was likely related to Treyton

be both the executor

could not feel at ease before she settled the

red velvet skirt. “Since it was your subordinates who hurt mine, I’ll have your people work

and her charming little face displayed a mix of cold arrogance

gazed into the

came to his senses, Gwendolyn had already taken the black trench coat from the coat rack, ready