However, lifting her gaze, she met Theodore’s icy stare. It was as if he was accusing her of siccing Mrs. Reynolds on Vanessa

With a smirk, Phoebe ignored Theodore’s silent accusations and Vanessa’s ploy. She walked over to Mrs. Reynolds, saying, “Mom, you’re soaked. Go take a hot shower and change.” “Always thoughtful, my dear Phoebe,” Mrs. Reynolds said, casting a glance at Vanessa before retiring to the master bedroom with Phoebe.

Phoebe picked out a dress for her, one from a recent impulse buy at Hermès after a spat with Theodore.

She had been meaning to bring it to the Reynolds Mansion and now, the opportunity was perfect.

Mrs. Reynolds, noticing the tag still on, unfolded the dress and admired it. “This is gorgeous, exactly my style.”

Phoebe flashed a smile. “Spotted it while shopping with Cindy and it screamed your name. Bought it before anyone else could.”

Mrs. Reynolds chuckled before letting out a sigh. “Phoebe, if only you’d pour half this effort on Theodore, things might not be so rocky between you two.” Phoebe paused, taken aback.

“Think about it, honey. He’s your man, and if you don’t pamper him, someone else will, and one day he might just be swooned away by someone else. What would you do then?” After giving her a piece of advice, Mrs. Reynolds turned and made her way to the bathroom.

As an elder, it wasn’t quite appropriate for her to take a shower in the younger couple’s space, but given the suddenness of the situation, she wasn’t too fussy about decorum. Phoebe stood frozen in the center of the bedroom. The air conditioning was cranked up high, making the damp clothes clinging to her body both cold and uncomfortable. She sneezed and quickly grabbed some clothes before heading to the guest bathroom.

No sooner had she stepped in, without even closing the glass door, than she was forcefully pushed inside. The door then shut behind her and locked.

Phoebe found herself pressed against the cold wall by a large hand, and behind her came the suppressed, angry breaths of a man. “Phoebe, you call my mom out in this downpour to take your side what if something happened to her on the way? Could you ever live with that?”

Phoebe, who had been struggling, stopped at his words. That’s just great, she thought, her eyes filling with desolation.

‘Mrs. Reynolds just told her to coddle him, but how is she supposed to coddle a man who, without any sense of reason or fairness, accused her of ulterior motives? She can’t, and she won’t stoop so low.’ Phoebe thought. She let out a faint laugh.

The sound of her laughter only irritated Theodore further. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“I’m laughing at how highly you think of yourself. I couldn’t care less about you. Why would I bother calling your mom to vent for me? Is it worth my time?” she retorted.

His jaw tensed, his gaze icy and penetrating, and the hand on her back pressed harder. “What did you say? Say that again!”

Pinned against the wall, Phoebe felt a sharp pain in her chest. She remembered the harsh words he had spoken earlier at the office’s entrance, her eyes clouded with complexity.

“I don’t care about you. It’s pointless to make such a fuss.”

Before she even finished speaking, she felt a fist smash close to her ear, the fierce swoosh of air grazing her cheek with a sting that halted her heartbeat.

“Phoebe, remember what you just said. Don’t regret it!”

Theodore shoved her aside and then released her, storming out of the guest bathroom with the fury of a tempest.

Phoebe’s knees buckled, and she steadied herself against the wall, catching a glimpse of the tiles that were slightly indented with fresh bloodstains. Theodore’s punch spoke volumes of the hate in his heart.

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