?Chapter 1539:


    William raised his gaze from the desk. His brows drew together the moment he noticed the familiar soup bowl. “I already told you that I do not want the chicken soup.”


    Tasha answered gently, her voice careful and measured. “Ms. Russell spent several hours making this. Your stomach is not in good condition, so you should at least drink a little. Ms. Russell has already returned to her room — she will not know.”


    Those words caused William’s hand to stop mid-movement. That final remark aligned precisely with what he had been thinking.


    He let his eyes rest on the bowl. The aroma drifted up in soft traces that refused to dissipate. He had caught the same scent earlier that evening. At the time, he had not wanted Ste to believe that one bowl of soup was enough to soften him, so he had deliberately turned it away.


    Even reheated, the soup still carried its full aroma — nothing had faded.


    Silence stretched on until Tasha began to believe he would refuse again. In the end, he offered no refusal. He simply reached out and took the bowl.


    Warmth spread from the porcin against his palm, and a subtle sense of ease followed. He lifted a spoonful to his mouth. The vor was far better than he had imagined — smooth and full-bodied, the broth holding the gentle sweetness of chicken along with a mild herbal finish that lingered briefly. Bnced, neither heavy nor dull.


    Something shifted inside William’s guarded heart, stirred by nothing more than a bowl of soup.


    He finished every drop in silence, then set the bowl down and signaled for Tasha to take it away. Warmth settled in his stomach, and even the sharp ache from his injury softened by a noticeable degree.


    A long moment passed before he finally spoke, his voice rough around the edges. “Did she say anything at all?”


    Tasha studied his expression, understanding immediately that he meant Ste. “Ms. Russell did not say much. She only seemed very distressed. I do not believe she is someone without gratitude. Mr. Briggs, is there perhaps a misunderstanding between the two of you?”


    Tasha had long been convinced that the hostility between William and Ste stemmed from misunderstanding alone — that once those issues were cleared away, reconciliation would surely follow.


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    William dropped his gaze back to theputer screen, his tone slipping into its familiar coldness. “You can go now.” He chose silence rather than any exnation concerning Ste.


    Tasha recognized her ce, kept quiet, and left the room with the tray.


    After the door shut, William leaned back in his chair and brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The warmth lingered in his stomach as his mind filled with memories of Steughing with Marc — the two things forming an unsettling contrast he could not reconcile.


    He was no longer certain which version of Ste was real.


    Was she the woman from his memories — someone who had betrayed him and taken advantage of him from the beginning? Was she the one who had stolen his documents and handed them to Marc? Or was she the woman standing before him now, who worried over his injuries and spent hours preparing his soup?


    Had she given up an entire day out of guilt and genuine concern, or was it simply another scheme, hidden deeper than thest?


    A steady, dull pain began to pulse behind his eyes, a warning to stop dwelling on it. Without warning, his gaze snapped to the middle distance, a sharp glint crossing his expression.


    Because of his bipr disorder, controlling his emotions was often beyond him — and that struggle grew worse whenever Ste was involved. The feeling of slipping out of control grew stronger every time. He despised that sensation deeply, and more than that, he despised Ste for having the ability to disturb him so effortlessly.


    In the early morning hours, a knock at the door pulled Ste from a restless sleep. Faint swelling still lingered around her eyes. She climbed out of bed, crossed the room, and opened the door to find Tasha waiting outside.


    “Tasha, what is it?” Her heart clenched instinctively. She nced past her into the corridor, afraid William had already decided on another punishment.


    Tasha’s face held an unusually bright smile. “Ms. Russell, Mr. Briggs says you may go out today and meet your friends.”


    Ste stood frozen for a moment. “He is letting me out?”


    Tasha nodded. “Mr. Briggs said you can do whatever you like today. You only need to return in the evening.”


    A rush of happiness flooded through Ste, and a smile spread across her face before she could stop it. She could finally go out. Only yesterday she had believed she had angered William again — she had never expected him to permit her to leave the vi today.


    As the excitement settled, a quiet unease followed. “He — why would he suddenly be willing to let me out?”


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