Winning Her Heart Back

 The Pierce Residence

Emelie was both amused and exasperated. Wesley's childish behavior had left her speechless.

She said, "Really, Mr. Cronus, how old are you?"

Wesley smiled and playfully tugged at her clothes. He said softly, "Alright, stop overthinking it. It's late. Let's go home."

The two of them got into the car and headed toward the Pierce Residence.

The house was located in a typical residential neighborhood, far from the affluent areas. Several food stalls were still open along the street, and business was surprisingly good.

When they passed a dumpling stall, Emelie asked the driver to stop.

"Hungry?" Wesley asked.

"A little, but mostly because the dumplings here are delicious and I want you to try it," Emelie replied. " The owner told me that he's been running this stall for thirty years, rain or shine. All the locals love their food. I wonder if my parents and brother might have eaten here too."

She was simply sharing a story and her enthusiasm for the food, so she failed to notice the change in Wesley's expression. He no longer looked indifferent.

Emelie leaned out of the car window, ready to order two bowls of dumplings. However, before she could speak, Wesley grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the car.

Emelie was startled and fell against him. She was half-lying on his lap, and she looked up at him in confusion.

The lack of streetlights cast half of Wesley's face in shadow, leaving only his tense jaw visible. He instructed the driver, "Drive."

"Hey! Wait, I haven't ordered the dumplings yet." Emelie was baffled as she pushed herself up. "What are you doing?"

Wesley looked down at her, the streetlights illuminating his face from time to time.

"I'd rather have the spaghetti you cook. There should be ingredients at home. Let's make food at home," he said.

"What?" Emelie exclaimed, checking the time. It was four in the morning. "Even capitalists don't exploit their workers like this. Making me cook at this hour? Why don't we just get dumplings to go?"

"Because I'm not just any capitalist," Wesley replied with a smirk.

He was wealthier than most, so he felt entitled to be demanding. "I want to eat something you cook."

Emelie straightened up, ready to retort that won't do it. However, Wesley said, "Next quarter, I can increase the marketing budget for your project by 10%."

It was the first time Emelie had seen him being this wilful. She wondered if it had something to do with William.

Wesley had seemed anxious when she spent two weeks with William, and seeing them dance tonight might have triggered his jealousy.

Emelie clicked her tongue and conceded, "Fine, fine, Mr. Capitalist. I'll cook for you."

Wesley smiled.

Just then, the car arrived at the Pierce Residence, and they both got out.

Wesley stood by the car and adjusted his clothes. He glanced at the lively street vendors and narrowed his eyes slightly.

Once inside, Emelie headed straight for the kitchen. Wesley entered a few minutes later after giving instructions to Marcel.

Emelie ignored him and opened the refrigerator, which was fully stocked with fresh ingredients. She had arranged for it to be filled before moving in.

She grabbed some spaghetti, vegetables, and meatballs, and casually asked, "Jodie, Marcel, are you hungry? I can make extra, and we can have a meal together."

Jodie and Marcel sensibly declined. "Thank you, ma'am, but we're not hungry."

Emelie didn't insist. She put herself in their shoes and thought that she wouldn't want to eat with her boss as well. It would be too stressful.

"Alright, you two can rest. Thanks for your hard work," Emelie said.Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

They bowed and left.

Wesley had been observing the house ever since he came in.

Emelie turned on the stove and started boiling water. She remembered something and asked, "Wesley, are you feeling alright?"

He had just arrived at Capebatt City today after a long flight. Then, he attended a wedding and went to the hospital.

He must be exhausted. She was afraid that he was pushing himself too hard.

Wesley's hand brushed against the antique shelf, his eyes filled with a profound emotion.

"I'm fine," he replied softly. "Did you restore this house to its original state?"