Hazel Sinclair stood frozen the moment after she slapped him.
’When did my temper get so bad? I’ve never hit anyone before.’
Looking at Leon Sterling, who she’d just slapped, her heart began to pound nervously.
’I’m so dead. Is he angry now?’
"Does your hand hurt?" Leon Sterling touched his own cheek, then reached out, took her hand, and asked in a gentle voice.
"I’m tough. Next time you want to let off some steam, don’t use your own hands. Just say the word, and I’ll do it myself."
Hazel Sinclair, who had just been worried he was angry, was taken aback by his words. A giant question mark popped into her head.
’WTF!’
’Could it be... Leon Sterling actually has some kind of special kink? A normal person would be furious and feel humiliated after being slapped. They’d want to hit back to save face.’
But him? Not only was he not angry, he was actually concerned about her hand hurting.
’He’s really something else.’
Hazel Sinclair snatched her hand back. She felt incredibly guilty but still put on a tough front. "If you know you’re so tough, then don’t do things that make me angry."
"When I get mad, I’ll want to hit you!"
Hearing this, Leon Sterling broke into a smile again. "It’s okay. As long as you’re the one hitting me, I’m willing to take it."
"Just don’t be angry."
Once they were out on the main road, Hazel Sinclair saw the three-wheeled vehicle parked by the curb, and the corner of her mouth couldn’t help but twitch.
’So he came here on a tricycle.’
"You didn’t go set up your stall tonight?" The thought suddenly occurred to Hazel Sinclair, and she looked at him questioningly.
"I... didn’t." Leon Sterling took out the key and sat in the driver’s seat, leaving more than half the space for Hazel Sinclair.
"What about the ingredients?" Hazel Sinclair asked as she sat down, thinking of the food he had bought.
"I put them in the fridge."
Leon Sterling twisted the handlebar, and the tricycle drove off. Bathed in the streetlights, the two of them looked like a very loving couple.
After passing the food street, Hazel Sinclair rubbed her stomach and said, "I’m hungry."
"I’ll go buy you something to eat then," Leon Sterling said, looking at her.
Thinking of the food in the fridge at home, Hazel Sinclair shook her head. "Forget it. Just go back and stir-fry a couple of dishes for me."
"You just started making money and you’re already trying to spend it all? Do you have a death wish?" Feeling she’d been too soft, Hazel immediately added a harsher jab.
"Right, where’s the place you rented? How much is the rent per month?"
Hazel Sinclair remembered he had already rented a place, so she asked.
"Eighteen thousand."
"What—" Hazel Sinclair’s shocked cry cut through the quiet night, drawing the gazes of many passersby.
’Eighteen thousand! He can’t be trusted with money. It disappears in a flash.’
’Eighteen thousand... he was actually willing to spend that much on rent.’
"The money isn’t important. What’s most important is that you’re happy living there," Leon Sterling explained.
"Besides, I don’t want you to feel like you’re suffering."
"That money was for you to stage a comeback! And you turn around and spend so much of it on rent? Are you crazy?" Hazel Sinclair demanded, poking his shoulder.
’Money isn’t important, being happy is most important? Sure. When you have no money, you can just sit in your rental and be emo all day.’
"I’ll figure out the money for the startup," Leon Sterling replied.
’Now’s not the time. Next month, once that person returns from abroad, I can start to fight back.’
Back in the old, shabby studio apartment, Hazel Sinclair sat on the sofa and once again began to reminisce about the Sinclair Villa.
That soft, plush sofa... that entire wall filled with limited-edition handbags and dresses of all styles.
Every single dress had an exquisite texture to the touch. They were all incredibly beautiful, with no hang tags or labels—clearly custom-made.
The freshly squeezed juice was delicious, too. Remembering that bottle of orange juice, Hazel Sinclair shamelessly yelled to the busy Leon Sterling in the kitchen, "Leon Sterling, I want freshly squeezed orange juice."
"Squeezed from fresh fruit."
"Okay," Leon Sterling answered. He then took out his phone, opened a delivery app, and started ordering oranges.
He took out the seafood one by one. Then, seeing the milk tea and cake in the fridge, he took them out and placed them in front of Hazel Sinclair.
"I bought these today. I thought we could celebrate renting a place," Leon Sterling explained.
Seeing the mango drink, Hazel Sinclair stuck a straw in and took a sip.
She found that the texture wasn’t as good anymore. Her palate having been thoroughly spoiled, Hazel Sinclair passed the drink over. "This doesn’t taste good anymore. You drink it."
Leon Sterling glanced at the used straw, said nothing, and simply took it and put it to his lips.
Hazel Sinclair was eating the small cake in front of her, but halfway through, she found it too rich and called out again, "Leon Sterling, I’m sick of this."
"You eat it."
"Okay," Leon Sterling replied, busy stir-frying the salt and pepper shrimp.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Hazel Sinclair glanced over, about to get up and open it, but Leon Sterling beat her to it.
He came in carrying a large bag of fruit, along with a high-speed blender.
The blender was specifically for making her orange juice. Since they didn’t have one, he had just bought one.
After getting these items, Leon Sterling went back to his work.
Before long, four dishes were brought to the table. A bowl of rice was placed in front of her, and at the same time, the blender started to whir.
The blender made loud noises as it occasionally churned. Hazel Sinclair was watching videos on her phone.
She was scrolling through videos of handsome guys doing transformations, and she was absolutely mesmerized.
She propped her phone up on a stand, eating the shrimp Leon Sterling had peeled for her and the pieces of meat he placed in her bowl.
Every now and then, she would also pop an out-of-season strawberry from the side into her mouth.
Just then, she scrolled to a video of a handsome guy with a particularly dramatic before-and-after transformation, and Hazel Sinclair’s eyes instantly lit up.
This change in her expression didn’t escape Leon Sterling’s notice. He stopped his chopsticks and asked nonchalantly, "Is it a handsome guy?"
"Yes, yes, yes! He’s drop-dead gorgeous!" Hazel Sinclair was completely hyped. She picked up her phone to show him, wanting to share the video.
But then she froze as she came to her senses. The man in front of her was her legitimate husband!
’Openly showing him this kind of thing... that’s probably not a good idea.’
The smile on Hazel Sinclair’s face vanished. She silently took her phone back and turned off the screen.
"Ahem, I was just... admiring it."
"Don’t overthink it," Hazel Sinclair explained with a light cough.
"Heh, I’m not overthinking it," Leon Sterling replied with a cold laugh.
"It’s not like you just started liking these kinds of videos today. I can’t exactly confiscate your phone, can I?"
Leon Sterling said this, then added with feigned magnanimity, "I’m not angry. It’s just a transformation video. If you like watching them, then watch."
Seeing him say this, Hazel Sinclair glanced at him and asked cautiously, "So... I can keep watching?"
Hearing this question, Leon Sterling was so angry he couldn’t help but let out a derisive snort.
"Watch."
His dark eyes stared at Hazel Sinclair as he said, deadpan.
"I’m not angry at all."
Seeing how strangely he was talking, Hazel Sinclair was suddenly unsure of what to do.
’Does he want me to watch it or not?’ Hazel Sinclair asked the system.
The system was speechless. [Honestly, you see a handsome guy and you lose all sense of reason. You’ve completely lost your mind.]
[Can’t you tell he’s angry?]
"If he doesn’t want me to watch, he should just say so. How am I supposed to know when he’s beating around the bush?" Hazel Sinclair retorted.