Pampered by Billionaires after Being Betrayed

Chapter 13 Cooking For HimContent protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

During the day, all the events at the Reed household flooded Emily's mind.

She was held tightly in his arms as she sighed softly, "It's nothing really, just thinking about all the injustices I've endured from Carol over the years, feeling like I'm particularly weak." "Hmm, anything else?" Mr. Satan asked softly.

"There's also... just feeling extremely unworthy. I could have gone to college initially, but my father got sick and we didn't have the money."

Mr. Satan reached out and ruffled her hair, his voice steady and clear, "Emily, life is just a series of choices. Next time you face a choice, be sure to consider yourself more." Emily felt like Mr. Satan was a bit of a sage.

"Mr. Satan, can I ask you a question?"

He grunted, "Go ahead."

"How old are you this year?"

"Why so curious about me?"

Emily felt a bit embarrassed, "I know, it's your privacy. It's okay, I just asked casually, you don't have to answer."

"Good girl," Mr. Satan kissed her forehead, "Now it's my turn to ask you a question?"

Emily glanced at him timidly and nodded.

"Do you still love Nathan? I want to hear the truth."

That question was a bit hard to answer.

Truth be told, she and Nathan were basically strangers before they got married. They barely had any emotional foundation. They never even dated, just got married.

After four years of marriage, she could understand Nathan's indifference to her to some extent.

At that time, she thought that people say familiarity breeds affection, as long as she took good care of Nathan's life, one day he would realize her goodness. In this process, she put in labor and also some feelings. Seeing her not answering, Mr. Satan said, "Fair's fair, you don't have to answer my question either."

Emily tugged at the corner of her lips, "Thank you."

"You never have to thank me," Mr. Satan held her hand, playing with it in his palm, "Emily, you need to learn to be confident." Confident?

Emily smiled bitterly. Sophia was right. She had no education, no outstanding talent. What could she be confident about?

"Mr. Satan, how long are you going to keep me?"

Satan chuckled, "What do you think?"

"I don't know," Emily shook her head, "But no matter what, you saved my father with the money, as long as you haven't abandoned me, I will do my part. What do you want to eat? I can make it for you, and if I can't, I can learn." "Emily, I want a partner, not a housemaid," Satan sighed, "Anyway, we'll take it slow. First, let's see what you've cooked, shall we?"

Emily jumped out of his arms and gave him a simple introduction to the quite rich dinner she had arranged: "Pepper steak, spaghetti with tomato sauce, bacon sandwiches, mixed salad... Is it okay?"

"Very good."

Satan sat down at the table, and a fork was quickly pushed into his hand, "If it doesn't suit your taste, just let me know, I can adjust."

Mr. Satan picked up a piece of steak and after tasting it, his chopsticks reached for the salad.

Emily's cooking skills were indeed very good. Although they were all home-cooked flavors, they didn't lack in appearance, aroma, or taste. The sandwiches and spaghetti were quickly finished. Before he could speak, Emily had already served a bowl of minestrone soup in front of him, looking at him earnestly.

"Emily." He set down his utensils.

"Huh?" Emily sat up straight, resembling a primary school student awaiting criticism from the teacher. "Is it not to your taste?"

"It's delicious, all dishes I love, but-" Satan sighed, "can you stop looking at me like that?"

Emily didn't catch on immediately. "I..."

"I'm a normal man, and any man can't handle the way you just looked at me, understand?" Satan watched her still in a half-dazed state, slightly open-mouthed, and felt a tickle in his heart.

In one breath, he finished the soup, then lifted Emily and threw her onto the bed.

Emily was startled, grabbing onto his shoulders and letting out a gasp.

In the whirl of motion, she found herself sinking into the soft mattress, Mr. Satan propping himself up on her body, his breath heavy.

His warm, moist breath sprayed onto her face and neck, the implications evident.

It was only at this moment that Emily realized the meaning behind his earlier words.

"Um..." She futilely attempted to explain, "I didn't mean to stare at you; I just wanted to know if you could handle the food I made..."

"Hmm," Mr. Satan began kissing her eyes, "Have you cooked for Nathan many times?"

"He rarely comes home," Emily said.

"Well... compared to me, is he gentle or rough?" Mr. Satan's question made Emily stiffen.

This time, she understood. Mr. Satan was talking about sex.

She felt embarrassed. "Can I not answer that question?"

"You can." Mr. Satan's kisses slowly descended, landing on her pursed lips, lingering at the corners.

He seemed to particularly enjoy her lip corners, lingering there for a long time...

It was another morning of oversleeping.

Emily was awakened by Olivia's phone call.

She glanced at the time and realized it was already past ten. She seemed to be getting up later every day.

Back when she was at the Reed household, if she didn't get up to make breakfast by half-past six, Carol would surely throw a tantrum. Now waking up at 2307, she felt a sense of relief. "Hey, Olivia?"

Olivia's voice was excited to the extreme. "Emily, we've all been fooled. You don't have blocked fallopian tubes at all!"