Chapter 9: The Wedding Photo and Ring Are Gone
Facing Queenie’s contorted expression. Wendy waved her off, cool and indifferent.
“Since you two are so in love, of course I’ll grant your wish. Don’t worry–won’t be long before Steven and I divorce. Then you can have your dream and become the young madam of the Price family.”
Queenie blinked.
She agreed that easily? Or was this another trick?
She stared at Wendy, as if she could read something off her face.
Wendy grew impatient.
“I’ve answered you. Please leave–I’m working.”
After a long, shadowed look, Queenie said nothing and turned to go.
There’s no way Wendy agreed this fast–something’s off.
Might as well add fuel to the fire.
Past midnight on her overnight shift, just as Wendy was about to make instant noodles, a message arrived.
From Queenie.
Only a photo.
In it, Steven had an arm locked around Queenie’s waist, fast asleep. Queenie stared into the camera, pride in her eyes; faint red marks mottled her
neck.
What had just happened was obvious.
Wendy almost laughed.
Crude, amateur theatrics.
Did she think this would make her jealous?
She forwarded the photo to Steven with one line:
“About half a month till the divorce, Mr. Price–maybe pace yourself.”
The next morning, Steven scowled at the message.
He hadn’t slept with Queenie last night. Where did this photo come from?
Yesterday his clothes had been stained–she’d insisted he change and he’d used the hotel laundry.
So Queenie staged the shot and sent it to Wendy?
“Steven, you’re awake!”
Queenie came in with breakfast, beaming.
“I had this prepared for you. Come eat.”
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My Ex Called Me the Help. Now I’m Untouchable
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Chapter 9: The Wedding Photo and Ring Are Gone
He dressed quickly, expression blank, and held up his phone.
“What’s this? You took photos of me without permission? Queenie, I didn’t think you were that kind of person.”
Her face changed the instant she saw the screen.
Damn it–that wretch sent it to him.
She bit her lip, eyes darting, then grabbed his hand, tears welling on cue.
“Steven, I’m sorry. I got anxious and did something stupid. Please forgive me–I won’t do it again. If you don’t forgive me, then… I’ll disappear from your life forever.”
She feigned retreat–and, as planned, he caught her wrist.
Looking at her weeping, pear–blossom face, he sighed, helpless.
“Queenie, I get it. But some things can’t be rushed.”
“I’ll pretend this didn’t happen. Next time, don’t pull a stunt like this.”
She nodded fiercely and threw herself into his arms.
“Steven, thank you for understanding me!”
But a hard glint flickered in her eyes.
As expected, Wendy wasn’t so simple.
She’d been countered this time–but she wouldn’t swallow it.
Even as he held Queenie, Steven’s mind drifted to Wendy’s clean, pale face.
When he got back, he should explain to that woman properly.
After her night shift, Wendy dragged herself home, exhausted.
She’d barely collapsed on the sofa when Steven came in.
She spared him a glance and closed her eyes again.
His footsteps drew close.
“Don’t misunderstand the photo. Between Queenie and me-”
He broke off, gaze locking on a spot in the foyer. His face darkened.
“Wendy, where’s the wedding photo on the wall? Where did it go?”
He seemed to notice something else and seized her wrist, hauling her up.
“And your ring–you always wear it. Why is it gone? What are you trying to pull?”
She yawned lazily, looking at him with cool detachment.
“What could I be ‘pulling‘? I sent the photo out for maintenance. As for the ring, I left it at the hospital by accident. You grilling me like this makes it seem like you actually care about such… trifles.”
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My Ex Called Me the Help, Now I’m Untouchable
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Chapter 9. The Wedding Photo and Ring Are Gone
Trifles?
He let out a short, angry laugh.
“Trifles? Don’t forget–you begged me for that wedding shoot and the proposal ring. Now you don’t care? What is this–some coy act to reel me in?”
He’s sick.
When she chased him, he called her calculating.
Now that she couldn’t be bothered, he called it a ploy.
She tore her wrist free.
“That was then. Now we’re divorcing. Do wedding photos and rings still matter?”
She left him there and went to her room.
Before long, he followed.
He meant to clear up the photo–but when he pushed the door open and saw her slender form and unadorned, fine features, his heart jolted.
Queenie and Wendy were opposites.
Queenie loved makeup and jewels. Wendy did not.
Barefaced, simply dressed, she was still arresting–cool, quietly luminous.
He forgot the photo.
His breath shortened; his feet moved toward her of their own accord.
She opened her eyes at the movement–and his tall frame came down over her.
His hands roamed her waist.
She started, eyes flying wide.
“Steven, what are you doing? Let me go!”
He didn’t seem to hear, mouth descending.
The kiss was wild, overwhelming. Nausea rose in her throat.
He’d already been with Queenie–then turned around to kiss her?
Disgusting.
She gritted her teeth and kicked him hard between the legs.
As he groaned, she shoved him off and jumped from the bed.
“Steven, we’re about to divorce. If you’re in heat, go to your Queenie.”
