?Chapter 1537:
By eight that evening, Ste gentlydled the soup into a bowl and arranged clean tableware on the dining table. After pausing briefly, she lowered herself into a chair and waited in silence.
Since she had no idea when William would return, she served only one bowl and left the rest warming on the stove. As the minutes dragged on, a restless feeling crept into her chest — she was both eager for his return and deeply afraid of it. The sh of those emotions left her unsettled, even to herself.
At around half past eight, the hum of a car engine sounded outside. Momentster, it cut off, and footsteps followed at the entrance. Ste instinctively held her breath, every nerve drawing tight.
Not long after, William appeared at the dining room doorway. His eyes settled on Ste.
She forced a smile at once, her expression slightly tense. “You are back. This is the chicken soup I made. It should help with your injury. Would you like some?” The moment the words left her lips, her heart began to race with a mix of hope and unease.
William’s voice came out slightly hoarse, edged with cold disdain. “There is no need for it.”
Tasha stepped forward at once. “Mr. Briggs, Ms. Russell woke up early to prepare this soup for you. She spent a great deal of time on it…”
Before she could finish, William cut her off, his voice stripped of any warmth. “I told you already. I do not need it.”
That detached response sent Ste’s heart plunging.
William turned to walk away. Without thinking, Ste rose to her feet. “I know you are still upset, but this will help your body. Your back wound needs proper nourishment.” Without realizing it, her words carried both urgency and a quiet sense of grievance.
William stopped and turned around slowly to face her.
Dressed in a dark gray suit, his paleplexion stood out even more sharply, and the chill radiating from him made Ste shiver despite herself. A mocking curl touched his lips. “Ste, do you really believe this will fool me again? You cook some soup, put on a show of concern, and think I will erase everything from the past?”
“I did not mean to—”
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She wanted to exin, yet she could not find a ce to begin. What she wished to say was that her concern for him was genuine — that she would never steal those documents again. But none of it mattered. Just as he had said, he did not trust her. Not at all.
His tone turned even colder. “Stop using these petty tactics. Do you really think one bowl of soup can erase what you have done? Do not waste your effort. I will not believe you again. Not a single word.”
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