Chapter 18
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now
Chapter 18:
Taking several deep breaths to steady herself, she made her way back to the dining area.
The noodles on the table had gone cold, sticking together and turning mushy.
Hadley settled into her chair, speared a large bite of noodles, and stuffed them into her mouth. They were cold and soggy, causing her to cough as she struggled to swallow.
Despite the unpleasant texture, she continued eating. She was hungry and there was nothing else available to eat.
As she reached for another bite, Eric abruptly re-entered the room.
âHadley!â
Startled, Hadley choked and began to cough violently.
âTsk.â
With a frown and a click of his tongue, Eric glanced at the bowl in front of her.
âWhat is this? Can you actually eat it?â
âJust noodles,â Hadley replied, catching her breath. âDid you need something?â
âNoodles? You call that noodles?â Eric examined the clumps of noodles, and with a sneer, he mocked,
âYou struggle to make even noodles? It looks like Grandma has spoiled you too much.â
Really? A silent, cold laugh escaped Hadley as she barely opened her mouth.
âAnyway,â Eric continued, remembering his original intent and gesturing toward her meal.
âStop cooking here. Eat out instead. The kitchen used to be free of smoke and grease, and it will stay that way!â
He arched an eyebrow, giving her a look filled with cold disdain.
âUnderstood?â
âUnderstood.â
ð¦ð®ð³ð² ð½ð¼ðð ð³ð¿ð¼ðº: â³ð®ð ððνðð ð⸬ð¼ððº
Hadley nodded. âI wonât cook here again.â
Noticing his evident revulsion, she assured him,
âIâll ventilate the kitchen later to clear out the smells and make sure everything is cleaned up.â
âYou?â With a scoff, Eric mocked, âYou struggle with noodles, and now you want to clean? Donât bother. Let the housekeeper handle it tomorrow.â
He then turned and ascended the stairs.
At last, some peaceâ¦
Relieved, Hadley exhaled and resumed her seat.
The noodles, now even more unappetizing in their cold and mushy state, stared back at her.
Expressionless, Hadley picked up her fork and hurriedly finished the noodles.
She then proceeded to open the windows to air out the kitchen, tidied up the space, and collapsed onto the couch in the living room. Opting against the guest room, she didnât want to give him any further reasons to complain about odors again.
Her plan was to start looking for an apartment the following day; for the moment, she would cope with the situation as best as she could.
.
.
.