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17kNovel > Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now > Chapter 3082

Chapter 3082

    ?Chapter 3082:


    “So…” Ernest’s lips curved in a faint, almost apologetic line, as though rifying himself. “That’s why it took me a little longer to answer the door. Sorry about that.”


    “It’s okay,” she said quickly, shaking her head.


    Elissa lifted both hands in a small, flustered gesture before quickly raising the bag Emma had handed her.


    She peeked inside—the bag was neatly packed with oral medication, ointment, gauze, and everything else he might need.


    She held the bag out to Ernest. “These are yours… You left them at the hospital.”


    “Ah—right.”


    Ernest reached for the bag without much expression, fingers curling around the handles.


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    Elissa exhaled in quiet relief—only to watch him drop the bag carelessly onto the coffee table, as if it meant nothing.


    He tipped his chin up in her direction. “I didn’t forget it. I just didn’t feel like bringing it. Still… thanks for dragging yourself all the way here.”


    He paused, a faint, fleeting curl tugging at the corner of his mouth. His voice dipped into a taunting hum. “Why bother, though? I figured you didn’t care whether I lived or died.”


    Elissa’s brows jumped, and she shook her head before she could stop herself.


    Was that anger beneath the surface? Emma had been right—this recklessness, this bleakness… it all circled back to her.


    “Then… you…” Elissa faltered, unsure where to begin.


    She lifted her gaze, soft and earnest. “Did you at least eat something?” She nodded toward the bag. “You should… food first. Medicine’s rough on an empty stomach.”


    “No,” Ernest said simply, shaking his head.


    “No?” Elissa’s frown deepened. “But you have a housekeeper, don’t you?”


    She remembered fromst time—he’d hired someone to look after the ce.


    “Didn’t she make you anything?”


    “She did,” he answered, nodding. “I just didn’t feel up to eating.”


    “That’s not good,” Elissa murmured, worry coloring every line of her face.


    “It’s whatever,” Ernest replied, tone t. “I’m not taking the meds anyway. Eating or not won’t change anything—I’m not going to die from skipping a few meals.”


    His expression stayed impassive, but something shadowed his eyes.


    “And even if I did, no one cares,” he said quietly. “No one will be sorry.”


    Elissa blinked, pulled along by the heaviness in his voice. “What if I care?”


    He had her—


    There was a barely-there lift of his lips, soft but undeniably satisfied. “You care?” He shook his head slowly. “That’s not nearly enough.”


    Not enough? Then what did he want?


    Elissa swallowed, cheeks warming. “I… I feel bad seeing you like this, alright? Please take your medicine.”


    Ernest gave a quiet, dismissiveugh. “Don’t bother lying. You’re only saying that so I’ll take the pills. You don’t mean a word of it.”


    “I—I do mean it!” Elissa insisted, her voice tight with panic.


    “I don’t believe that,” he said simply.


    Elissa’s eyes widened, glossy with frustration. “Then what will make you believe me?”


    “Let me think…” Ernest murmured, narrowing his eyes just a touch.


    He studied her like a man watching a naive girl walk willingly into his snare.


    “I suppose… if you kissed me, I’d believe you.”


    Again? Seriously?


    Heat flushed up her neck, flooding her cheeks a brilliant red.


    “No?” Ernest frowned, lifting a hand to his forehead. “Forget it, then. I know I’m forcing this on you again.”


    He made a weary gesture. “You should leave. Just go. I’m not feeling well—I need to rest anyway.”


    Not feeling well? Why was he being like this? Why wouldn’t he just listen to her and take his medicine?


    Seeing him push her away again, Elissa balled her hands into tight fists.


    “Fine! I’ll do it—I’ll kiss you!” she burst out.


    “Really?” Ernest’s hand lowered, and a quiet, triumphant smile touched his lips.


    He settled on the sofa and tapped the cushion beside him. “Thene here. Sit with me.”


    “Okay…” Elissa lowered her eyes and eased herself onto the seat next to him.


    “Here,” he murmured.


    Ernest angled his head toward her, leaning in—the side of his face now mere inches from hers.


    “Go on, then… show me,” he whispered, inviting and smug.


    .


    .


    .
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