Addicted After Marriage: Marrying My Abstinent Boss-Chapter 158: So What If You Have a Wife?

Just as they returned to the villa, they saw Miles Lockwood at the door.

Zane Sterling’s deep eyes darkened.

"Hello, sister-in-law." Miles Lockwood smiled at Sophia Lowell.

Sophia answered with a nod.

"You should go rest first." Zane Sterling gently stroked her hair and said tenderly.

"Alright." Sophia knew not to linger.

Miles had come in person, indicating an important discussion was imminent.

He observed Zane’s gentle and watery expression and for a moment thought he had mistaken him for someone else.

Zane, once a disciple of the Buddha, had been molded into this...

Miles pursed his lips; no wonder since getting married, Zane hasn’t even shown up for drinks, turned into a fool for love.

He turned away; looking further might make him go blind.

After Sophia left, Zane and Miles went up to the third-floor private study.

"We found out the kidnapping was orchestrated by Drake Morgan. Whether Beau knew or not, there’s no trace of it on him yet." Miles sat on the adjacent single-seater couch.

Zane opened his laptop, entered the password, and accepted files sent by Miles.

Miles continued, "Drake colluded with Sienna Lawson, but what benefit Drake gave her is unclear, as Sienna didn’t mention him at all."

"Hmm." Zane lowered his gaze, the murderous intent in his eyes dimming slightly.

"That bouquet on your sister-in-law’s opening day was also Drake’s doing. We found the courier, and it took some work to make him talk." Miles half-lay on the couch.

Zane skimmed the computer files while listening to Miles’ report, feeling his anger burning hotter, fingertips gripping the mouse had turned pale.

He considered himself no saint; previously, a single wave of his hand could ruin a company, at least until he met Sophia. He was aware of his methods.

If it weren’t for not wanting to raise Sophia’s suspicions, Henry Quinn would have been sleeping with the fishes.

And wouldn’t have had the chance to appear before him now.

Such things weren’t uncommon for him a couple of years back; rumors at the company weren’t unfounded.

He had been lenient with Beau, only because he remembered the small token of appreciation when he started his business in a wheelchair.

After the last incident at the villa, he had revoked Beau’s rights within the company, yet things escalated.

He rarely raised a hand against women; the first time was with Sienna, next, it would be Beau.

Miles closed his eyes to rest, asking, "Need any action?"

Zane leaned back in his chair, resting a pen against his forehead, frowning deeply as he spun the swivel chair.

"No hurry, let’s wait a bit." He said, "Anyone who dares to lay a hand on my people, I must slowly take them down, handling it this lightly would be letting him off easy."

Miles slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the man at the computer desk.

The look in Zane’s eyes was dark, filled with coldness.

He seldom looked like this; the last time was five years ago during a mission when his eyes were like life-taking blades.

His ruthlessness could make even the King of Hell shudder.

Miles hmm’d and closed his eyes to sleep.

"Miles." Zane glanced at the man on the couch.

He hadn’t even removed his shoes, lying there, not having showered for days, with a faint sour smell.

"Hmm?" Miles responded groggily.

"Roll back to your doghouse." Zane glared at him, his tone not pleasant.

Miles startled, his eyes widening at him in surprise.

"Zane, I risked my life for you, and now I’m just lying here for a few minutes, and you want me out — are you even human?" He protested.

"This couch was bought by your sister-in-law, you can’t afford to dirty it." He said lightly.

"..."

Truly blinded by beauty, is it that great having a wife?

"Still not leaving?" Zane tilted his head, eyeing his dirty shoes.

Miles bristled with frustration, "Fine! Leaving immediately!"

He sighed, bouncing up from the couch and dusting off his clothes.

"Zane, you’re burning bridges! Forgot your brother just because you got a wife."

Zane chuckled, "Not true, at least you still have some use right now."

Miles threw a deep and difficult look before turning to leave the study.

Sophia was preparing a hangover soup in the kitchen, watching Miles exit the elevator.

"Sister-in-law, I’m heading back." Miles greeted Sophia.

"Alright." Sophia pursed her lips, watching him go.

Miles and Melora Vance had opened a bodyguard company, commanding great respect, their hidden private detective network spanned the entire Azian Sector.

It was not an exaggeration to say they made a living on the edge of a knife.

Sophia withdrew her gaze, her heart mixed with emotions.

Zane must have something unspoken with them, otherwise, they wouldn’t have had such heavy expressions during their meeting.

She tested the hangover soup’s temperature, then carried it into the elevator.

Knock knock —

Three light knocks sounded on the door.

"Come in." Zane, frowning, was intently looking at the files on his computer.

Hearing the quiet footsteps, he minimized the window.

The sound of these footsteps was unique to the woman of this house: gentle, subtle, just like her.

"Why are you up here?" Zane swivelled his chair to face the approaching woman.

He spread his legs apart, leaning against the swivel chair, a sly smile on his lips, his white shirt neatly buttoned, his vest outlining his perfect build.

The tailored pants tightly encased those spellbinding forbidden zones.

Sophia averted her eyes, setting the bowl aside, not stepping forward deliberately.

Zane noticed her gaze, smiled, his eyes shining as he looked at her.

"Brought you some hangover soup."

Tonight he still had social engagements, better to remedy the alcohol while he could; such continuation could wear his body down.

Zane observed the woman had changed out of her home clothes, her hair half-dry, her clean face glowing with a healthy flush.

"Why are you standing so far?" He smiled.

In her eyes, Zane seemed a wild beast.

"It’s nothing, don’t you need to work? Drink up, then I can take it down for washing." Sophia stood before the desk, with the desk separating them.

"No work right now." Zane beckoned with his finger, "Come here."

"You drink first." Sophia insisted.

"Alright." Obediently, he picked up the bowl and drained the hangover soup in one go.

Sophia smiled, watching the man frown tightly as he drank it down.

He really detested the taste of hangover soup, but what could he do, it was made by his woman.

"Done." He furrowed, placing the bowl beside him.

Zane’s heavy gaze settled on her, repeating, "Done."

Sophia reached for the bowl, but Zane’s large hand got there first, grasping hers.

"Trying to run?"

"Not running."

"Come here."

Sophia hesitated for two seconds, circled the desk, and walked over to sit naturally on his lap.

Zane’s large hand tightly wrapped around her hips, his chin rested on her shoulder, enveloping the woman in his arms with his warm body heat.

Sophia knew this man had something weighing on his mind again.

He seemed like a wounded child, seeking comfort and needing companionship.

"What’s wrong, Mr. Zane?" Sophia asked.

"Tonight, I want to eat what you cook," Zane murmured.

Tender kisses fell densely on her neck.