With
With 70

Chapter 70

Mercer looked up and protested, “It’s not like they’re dirty or anything.”

Calla glared at him fiercely and insisted, “Even so, this is a bad habit. You need to make a change!” Mercer furrowed his brows and asked, “Why should I listen to you? You dare talk to me like that?” Calla grabbed Mercer’s plate. That’s because I’m the one who made dinner. If you don’t want to, don’t eat!

Mercer looked up and stared straight at Calla. In truth, Calla was quaking in her boots.

However, she’d already grabbed the plate from him. She couldn’t bow to his will at this point. Thus, she glared at him while steeling herself inwardly. It would’ve been too embarrassing otherwise!

In the next moment, Mercer stood up quietly. Calla’s heart skipped a beat as she took a hasty step backward.

He was tall and well–toned. Suffice to say, she wasn’t his equal when it came to combat skills–or physical build for that matter.

Mercer flatly stated, “I’m a good man who won’t argue with a woman. I’ll go wash my hands.” He then turned and walked to the bathroom.

Looking at his retreating figure, Calla sighed a breath of relief. She patted her chest. She’d thought he wanted to hit her!

Five minutes later, Mercer returned and sat back in his seat. He reached out to grab the plate Calla was holding before looking down and beginning to eat.

In the blink of an eye, Calla realized that the food had disappeared. She couldn’t help but knit her brows together. Had the scrooge been starved for the last few days? Why was he acting like a ravenous ghost?

Mercer looked up when he felt Calla’s gaze on him. When he caught her staring at him without blinking, he paused for a moment. To her surprise, he served Calla the last buttered broccoli while asking, “Why aren’t you eating?”

“It looks like I’ll have to cook more next time,” she muttered.

Calla looked down and spooned the vegetable into her mouth. However, when she tasted the savory butter on the broccoli, she couldn’t help but heave. She slapped a hand over her mouth and dashed toward the bathroom.

Her morning sickness had always been severe. In the bathroom, she felt as though she was throwing up bile.

Naturally, Mercer did not sit around and do nothing. He paced behind her in concern. He hesitantly patted her back before rushing off to get her water and a towel

“Thank you.” Calla accepted the towel from him and dried her chin. She was pleased by his considerate

actions.

After leaving the bathroom, Calla ate the little bit of pasta left. She then began to tidy the cutleries.

Mercer hurriedly rushed forward and offered, “Go take a rest. I’ll do it.”

+15 BONUS

Calla stared at him as she asked, “Do you know how to do it?”

He grew up in a prestigious family. He’d probably never even touched a plate or fork at the sink.

“It’s not like washing dishes requires professional training. Go take a rest.” Mercer convinced Calla to leave and began picking up the bowls and plates.

When she left the kitchen, Calla was still a little worried. Thus, she sat on the couch in the living room and monitored how Mercer was doing while watching television.

Suddenly, Calla heard the sound of porcelain shattering onto the floor. She immediately jumped to her feet.

Running toward the kitchen, she peeped inside. Porcelain bowls and plates were in pieces across the floor. She exclaimed, “What the hell are you doing?”

Mercer looked like a child who’d been caught making a mistake. He held a shard of porcelain in each hand, his eyes downcast. He replied, “My… My hand slipped and they fell to the floor.”

When she saw him like that, Calla paused. She hadn’t expected him to have moments like these. She placed her hands on her hips and ordered, “Hurry up and clean this up, alright?”

“Alright, alright. Go take a rest.” Mercer pushed Calla out of the kitchen.