?Chapter 145:


    She hinted that he should be honest about his orientation—even if it was awkward, at least Nathalia would stop viewing her aspetition. Ste had no intention of continuing as his decoy. Jealousy, especially from a woman, could turn dangerous. Who could predict what Nathalia might resort to if the confusion lingered?


    Could shebel it a workce injury and ask William for damages?


    William’s brow creased. “What are you talking about?”


    Ste blinked, surprised he was still pretending. “Seriously? It’s not exactly taboo anymore. People are a lot more epting these days. I think Ms. Fuller would take it just fine.”


    Her attempt at exnation only served to confuse him more.


    “I’ve got no idea what you’re trying to say. Just stay put, I’m calling the doctor.” Without another word, he walked out.


    Left behind in the treatment room, Ste exhaled and shook her head. Apparently, even someone like William couldn’t bring himself to be open. Given his position, maybe admitting he preferred men felt more shameful than losing face in a business deal.


    Well, if he wasn’t ready to be honest, she didn’t see the point in continuing the conversation.


    Soon, William returned with a doctor in tow.


    After checking the wound, the doctor carefully cleaned and disinfected it.


    “Keep it dry for the next few days,” he advised. “Let the skin scab over before taking a full bath.”


    Ste thanked him politely and went back to the vi.


    She let out a long breath, slumping back into the sofa.


    William, unusually gentle for once, nced in her direction and said, “You don’t need to worry about cooking for the next few days.” Her face lit up instantly.


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    “Are you going back to your ce?” Was this her lucky break atst?


    But his expression darkened the moment she spoke. “No. I meant exactly what I said—you don’t need to cook. I’m not going anywhere.”


    Was she really that eager to see him leave? The thought irritated him, and his mood worsened.


    “Then… should we just order takeout?” she asked, offering a weak smile to ease the tension.


    In this house, she was the only one who could prepare a proper meal. But ordering food wasn’t out of the question.


    “Isn’t Rita still around?” he replied.


    Ste froze, wondering if she’d misheard. Did he just suggest Rita should cook? The same Rita who only managed to pick and wash vegetables? The one who, even after multiple tries, still managed to serve eggs with bits of shell inside? Was he nning to put his stomach at risk?


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