Chapter 21

Over the past two years, though Hanna knew full well that Remington never came home, she still kept feeding her those bitter tonic brews that were supposed to help with childbirth, just to torment her.

Lizetta, in love with Remington, wanted to manage their marriage and her relationship with her mother–in–law well, enduring everything that came her way.

Now that Remington was the one being fed the soup, Lizetta couldn’t care less.

She turned her head away, pretending not to see.

Remington immediately received a “useless thing” look from Fiona.

Remington couldn’t help but chuckle, “Alright, Grandma, I’ll drink it all, making sure not a drop is wasted–your kind intentions are not in vain.”

He was talking to the old lady, but his eyes never left Lizetta, biting off his words with a hint of something

more.

Lizetta felt a shiver down her spine under his gaze, thinking to herself that Remington and Hanna were truly mother and son.

—-

Caught between their glares, it felt like being between ice and fire at the same time she couldn’t even taste a thing she ate.

That evening, as Remington pushed the bedroom door open, he saw Lizetta standing in front of the wardrobe.

She slammed the wardrobe shut, looking overly startled.

Remington’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stepped forward.

lover

the handle, but Lizetta, freaked out, held

as though there was a

her feeble attempt to stop him was utterly futile. The

pajamas, and some

face flushed, “I didn’t buy

hadn’t expected that this time she

she tried to shut the wardrobe,

anything, or expecting me to bring you something

“I’ll go find my old

before that Remington was

you really think you’ll find

by the old lady, all set up so Lizetta

glared at Remington.

useless was he to let the

was thinking; his handsome face was cold,

1/2

Chapter 21

whatever you wear is all the

might as well have written his disinterest in her on

the most conservative piece she could find, “This is the first time

into the bathroom, slamming

the mirror and frowned. The piece she had chosen, although it

Such attire might be provocative to some, but Remington was as indifferent as a block of iron; what was there

Remington was frigid, feeling morally protected instantly as she walked

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