Seize His Little Wife

Debby York gave her a sidelong glance, “It’s nothing you’re hiding, there must be a ghost, let’s see!”

“No way!” Christine White shook her head.

Debby York didn’t give a damn about her and yanked the paper off the table, “Review?”

Christine White rubbed her neck in embarrassment.

“What the hell is going on here, why are you writing a review?”

“Here’s the deal …”

Anyway, it had been discovered, Christine White had no more intention of hiding it and told the story as it was.

Debby York looked at her with an admiring face and gave her a thumbs up, “You’re really good, you’ve only just become a secretary and you’re slacking off and sleeping, and you’ve been caught on the spot by President Lane, it’s already your luck that you haven’t been dismissed, so keep writing, I’ll go down first,”

Debby York, fearing she’d be caught if she stayed too long, hurriedly shoved the review into Christine White’s hands and took off on foot.

Christine White sighed, smoothed out the wrinkles on her review, picked up her pen and continued to slog through it, checking it over and delivering it to Baird Lane.

“President Lane, my review is written.” Christine White stood in front of the man’s desk and presented the review with both hands.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

“Put it on the table.” Baird Lane didn’t look up at her either, approving the paperwork as he went along.

Christine White let out an oh-so-subtle sound and put the review down, followed by a step back, pulling away to stare at him.

He didn’t wear a jacket, only a black shirt, and his tie wasn’t tied, and the collar’s buttons were unbuttoned twice, and the sleeves were rolled up, revealing a small slice of bronzed chest and two sturdy little arms, which made people want to get into the wrong place when they looked at it.

That such a perfect man who exuded hormones was her husband of three years of marriage still felt a little unreal to her until now.

Christine White’s blazing gaze finally caught Baird Lane’s attention, and he looked up, into a giggling face.

“What are you still standing here for?” A faint flash of dislike crossed Baird Lane’s eyes.

It’s been three years since she married into The Lane Family, why is she still all tacky and hasn’t improved?

Hearing Baird Lane’s voice with a slight hint of impatience, Christine White snapped back to her senses and quickly straightened her expression, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right out.”

She turned toward the door.

“Wait!” The man behind her called out to her.

Christine White craned her head in confusion, “Anything else President Lane?”

Baird Lane lowered his eyes and said in a faint voice, “In a few days, you’ll come with me to the hospital again for a full body checkup.”

“A physical?” She blinked in surprise, “But I was just at the hospital …”

“Just listen to me!” Baird Lane sulked, his voice intensifying.

He had to make sure that she was in good shape so that he could make sure that she would be okay after she donated her bone marrow.

Christine White knew he was upset and scowled, not daring to say anything more, and hastily agreed, “I know.”

Baird Lane’s face eased a fraction, “I’ve got something to do this afternoon, you’ll be back on your own by then.”

“So are you still coming back to the villa at night?”

Baird Lane frowned and didn’t answer.

Christine White thought that he was not going to go back, her heart was empty, but on her face, she tried her best to put on an appearance of nothing, “I’ll go first.”

“Uh-huh!” Baird Lane responded faintly.

In the afternoon, Christine White was targeted by the secretarial corps, holding a very tall stack of accounts for the past few years for her to organize.

She was angry, but in order to fully familiarize herself with the duties of a secretary as soon as possible, she had to force herself to take the job and then work until late.

By the time we got back to the villa, it was nine o’clock at night.

The villa was empty, quiet as a pin drop, and Aunt Lucy was nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t until she saw the leave slip on the living room coffee table that Christine White remembered that Aunt Lucy had gone home.

“What a busy day!” She muttered as she scratched her hair, then rolled up her sleeves and went to the kitchen to get food.

She didn’t have the patience to make any kind of hearty dinner on a big night, and planned to just cook a bowl of noodles.

As soon as Baird Lane stepped into the cottage, he smelled the aromas coming from the kitchen, giving his stomach an instant hunger pang.

Who’s cooking this late?