THE BILLIONAIRE'S VENGEFUL WIFE RETURNS-Chapter 204: FAKE WEAKNESS

A/N: This Chapter is dedicated to Dawn_Holmes_7985. Hi Dawn, thanks for the golden ticket.

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"I can’t move my hands or legs, wife," Alanis groaned as he tried to adjust in bed. "They feel... paralyzed." he added

Harlow exhaled, rubbing her temples. She was tired of his consistent nagging and cry for help.

"Fine. I’ll help you bathe." she said.

After bathing, "My back hurts," he added, voice pitiful. "And I doubt the doctor will come today. Can you dress the wound?"

Her patience was hanging by a thread. She ground her teeth as she advanced towards him.

"Of course."

A moment of silence passed. Just one moment... And then...

"I’m hungry, my villain," Alanis continued, as if testing her last ounce of patience. He was enjoying everything. "I just realized I haven’t eaten anything since morning."

Harlow’s eyes narrowed.

"Are there no maids?" She glared at the massive, nagging baby sprawled across the bed. His back faced her as he complained.

Earlier he seemed so strong and fine, it’s almost as if he didn’t have any injury from the whooping yesterday. She had even forgotten Alanis had injuries and had let him carry her.

And now?

Now, he acted like a dying child in desperate need of a nursemaid.

"I sent all the maids to care for my grandmother," Alanis said, his tone soft and innocent.

Harlow groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

"Don’t forget," he added smoothly, turning his head just enough to smirk. "I’m in this condition because of you. So, naturally, it’s your duty to tend to my needs now."

Harlow pressed her lips into a tight line, forcing herself not to throw a pillow at his smug face as she ground her teeth together till it hurt her a little.

There was so much Harlow wanted to say to Alanis. First, that she never asked him to take any punishment for her. But arguing with this man was pointless, he never listened anyway.

"I’ll go find a maid," she muttered, stepping out of the room.

But when she reached the lounge, the Villa was empty. Not a single maid in sight.

Harlow sighed. Walking all the way to Charlotte’s Villa just to find help was out of the question, she was too exhausted. Which left her with only one option.

She had to cook for Alanis.

The mere thought made her groan. She had sworn never to do anything for this man, yet here she was, about to make him dinner. Everything she promised not to do, Alanis somehow always made her do.

Grabbing a knife, she decided to make something simple. Perhaps a soup? When she opened the freezer, an idea struck her, and she reached for the chicken.

She chopped vegetables, letting the familiar rhythm of cooking calm her. Soon, the rich aroma of chicken soup filled the Villa. Once the meal was done, she dished a portion into a bowl, added a spoon and a glass of water, then carried the tray upstairs.

This would be the last time she ever cooked for him. She thought to herself.

When she entered the bedroom, she placed the tray on the bedside table and gently nudged Alanis awake, though she knew he was pretending she still acted like the good wife.

"Dinner’s ready," she said flatly.

Alanis opened his eyes, warmth flickering in them as he gazed at her.

"You still have a long way to go," he murmured, pushing himself up against the pillows.

Harlow frowned. His wounds were fresh, how was he able to move like this without wincing? For someone that just said he felt like he was paralyzed, he looked okay to her.

"A long way in what?" she asked, setting the small table over his lap and placing the tray in front of him.

"Empathy," he said, gesturing for her to sit.

She climbed onto the bed beside him, crossing her legs.

"Not there." Alanis said and Harlow’s confused gaze met his. "My hands are too weak," Alanis added, eyes twinkling. "I can’t eat by myself. Can you feed me?"

Harlow rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe what he just said. Telling her to feed him after preparing the meal was truly a reach.

"No." Came her stern words.

"Come on Villian, you don’t always have to live up to that title. Besides you don’t have an option, you have to feed me." He said. Harlow frowned at his request. He was right, how could she forget this week was her punishment week and she has to do whatever Alanis wanted.

"If you keep frowning like that, you’ll get wrinkles," he teased.

"I’m already aging just talking to you." Alanis chuckled. "Then we’ll get old together."

Ignoring him, Harlow got up, her knee buried on the bed as she moved till she was right in front of him. Her knees sank by the side of his legs. She scooped up some soup and brought the spoon to his lips.

Alanis just stared at her.

"Open up," she ordered.

"You forgot to blow on it," he said smugly.

She shot him a glare. "Your mouth isn’t weak, you’ve been talking since."

"Talking and blowing hot soup are two different things," he said. "I don’t have the energy for it."

Harlow let out an exasperated sigh before blowing gently on the spoonful of soup. Satisfied, Alanis finally took a bite. His eyes fluttered shut as the flavors burst on his tongue.

Had chicken soup always tasted this good?

This was the warmth, the care he had missed in his past life, because of his own foolishness.

"Open up," Harlow said again, and he obeyed, taking another spoonful.

Before long, he had finished the entire bowl. Harlow took the empty tray back to the kitchen, relieved to finally have some time to herself. She needed to finish her movie script. She had promised to complete it in a week, but so much had happened that she barely had the time.

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While Alanis and Harlow rested upstairs, a shadow slipped into the Villa.

Jane.

She had one mission, retrieve Claudia’s documents. Elisa had sent her, though she hadn’t explained why she wanted them.

Jane didn’t ask questions.

She knew every inch of the Villa, every hiding place. Moving with practiced ease, she began her search.