wake up married 8

The next morning, the dining table in the lobby gleamed with a rich, opulent spread of breakfast. By the table stood a woman, likely the nutritionist Jonathan had hired. “I’ll have an iced coffee,” Natalie ordered, her voice smooth and unbothered. Stephanie Milsaw’s face tightened. It always happened when she saw Natalie— the woman carried herself with that same arrogant, untouchable air, as though she were superior to everyone in the room. “These meals aren’t for you,” Stephanie said, her tone cutting as she carried the breakfast away with a barely concealed annoyance. Natalie raised an eyebrow, about to snap back, but Stephanie must’ve seen something in her expression. The woman immediately plastered on a sweet, practiced smile and breezed past her. “Chris, Eve, I made breakfast for you. Chris, your stomach’s been off lately, so I made you some healing congee. And Eve, I made little croissants just for you.” She turned back to Chris. “I also made rib and carrot stew. It’s getting chilly, so a hot soup will warm you up.” Her concern was suffocating, as though she owned the house and everyone in it. Christopher sat at the table, his gaze drifting to the congee. It looked perfect— warm, aromatic, and inviting. For some strange reason, it reminded him of the congee Natalie had made just a few days ago. It had neither the fragrance nor the beauty, but that had been the first one she’d ever made for him. He snapped out of his thoughts, unsure whether he was trying to provoke her or just stir the pot. “This congee smells way better than someone’s kitchen disaster congee, huh, Eve?” Yvonne, suddenly called out, blinked her big, innocent eyes. She immediately shook her head and wrapped herself around Natalie’s leg. “No way! Mommy’s congee is the best! I don’t eat food made by other women. I’m Mommy’s baby! I only like Mommy’s cooking!” Stephanie’s laugh came out stiff, like she had practiced it, laced with enough sarcasm to make the air heavy. “Natalie knows how to cook? That’s a shock. I thought someone like Natalie, always spoiled and pampered, would never lift a finger to cook.” Was she mocking her for being a useless rich girl? Natalie raised an eyebrow, her voice calm, unbothered. “Why do I have to cook? That’s not my job. My job is to pay you. You cook because it’s your job. I cook because it’s my hobby. Got it?” The words dropped like stones, an invisible chasm forming between them. If it weren’t for the kids, Stephanie would’ve been looking for an ambulance right now. But she had to keep it together. Stephanie blinked, forcing out a few fake tears. “Natalie, I came all the way from overseas to take care of Jonny and the kids. I dropped everything, even my studies, to be here. But it seems like you don’t really want me here.” She played the innocent victim to perfection. Natalie’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile, her voice cutting through the air like a razor. “What are you, a supersized care package? You love to take care of people so much. Why don’t you volunteer at a charity? Or do you only want to take care of another woman’s husband and kids?” Natalie lost interest the moment Stephanie lost her cool. That’s all she can take? That’s her limit? And she’s trying to challenge me? Natalie had an appointment with Gianna. As she turned to leave, something clicked in her mind. She stopped, gave Stephanie a quick glance, and paused. With a razor-sharp tone, she shot, “Oh, by the way, you did get one thing right. I really don’t like you. Honestly, I can’t stand idiots.” Dropping her studies to fly back overnight to babysit a married man? What else was that but stupidity? Stephanie, tears streaming down her face, turned to Jonathan. “Jonny, I put you and the kids first. I care so much about you all that I dropped everything to be here. How could Natalie say that about me?” Christopher leaned back, chin resting on his hands, eyes glinting with amusement. His sharp, fox-like gaze seemed to gleam even more in that moment. “Honestly, I think she’s right. Stephanie, you’re kind of an idiot.” He hadn’t touched the congee Stephanie had made. His words had been nothing but a bait, a little jab to get under Natalie’s skin. But what did he know? Natalie didn’t even react. Boring. Christopher shrugged, tossed his bag over his shoulder, and stepped into his sleek luxury car, heading off to school. Stephanie, nearly broken into more tears, turned to Jonathan, but he barely flinched, his face tight with impatience. “Stephanie, you don’t need to do this. Go back and finish your studies.” “Jonny, I’m not leaving! Jeremy told me you’ve been talking about divorcing Natalie. Once you’re divorced, I’ll have my chance.” Desperation coated her voice as she reached for Jonathan’s sleeve. “Jonny, I’ll treat Chris and Eve like my own. I’ll do anything, anything, if it means I can marry you. If you want me to, I’ll even have a hysterectomy—right away.” From the corner, Yvonne, clutching her bunny plush, whispered up to the driver. “I don’t want to go to kindergarten today. Can you help me skip school?” The driver blinked in confusion. “Ms. Yvonne, if you’re not going to school, where will you go?” Yvonne’s face was serious, her little voice a sharp declaration. “I want to find Mommy! Stephanie wants to steal Daddy from Mommy and be my stepmom! This can’t happen! I won’t allow it!” Stephanie trying to steal her father? That was far more important than any kindergarten day. … Wood Corporation, CEO’s office. Gianna’s voice sliced through the still air, cold and sharp. “Nattie, when are you going to release Jacques?” This morning, the media had exploded with the publication of Jacques’s compromising photos. And just like that, his involvement with prostitution had become public knowledge. The company’s reputation was in tatters, stock prices crashed, and nearly 75 million in value had vanished without a trace. Courtney was running in frantic circles, trying to salvage the wreckage. There were powerful people above the Woods, and as long as Natalie stayed silent, Jacques wouldn’t be walking free anytime soon. Natalie stirred her tea slowly, effortlessly, her voice cool and measured—every inch the poised daughter of high society. “No hurry. When you train a dog, you break it first, show it who’s boss, then toss it a bone. It’ll listen.” Jacques wanted time to think? Fine. She’d lock him up, let him think all he wanted. A secretary stepped in, papers in hand. “Ms. Wood, these need your signature.” Gianna picked up the pen, her signature flowing swiftly across the page. Natalie’s gaze flickered to the pen. It was the one she’d given Gianna when she was 12 years old. “Anna, how did you end up as the president of Wood Corporation?” Philip had earned a reputation for his blatant sexism. To get his son, he’d kept multiple mistresses. It wasn’t until the sixth mistress bore him a boy that he was brought into the Woods. From then on, the wife, the mistresses, the daughter, and the illegitimate son all lived under the same roof. At the Woods, Anna had always been a target—pushed around by her father’s lovers and half-brother. She’d grown soft, often breaking into tears when things went wrong. She’d spent years protecting Anna, taking on that rotten half-brother, fists flying. Philip had fumed, but never laid a hand on her. She had her father’s protection, after all. What stunned her, though, was that for all his blatant preference for men, Philip had chosen Anna to inherit the Woods. Gianna’s eyes darkened, her voice tinged with reluctance. “My brother … he’s a cripple now. My father had no choice … ” Before she could finish, she was enveloped in an embrace. Looking up, she saw Natalie holding her, speaking in the same reassuring tone from years ago. “Anna, you’ve been through enough. From now on, I’ll protect you.” Gianna rested quietly in the warmth of Natalie’s embrace. She’d almost spoken when a small face popped into view. “You don’t need protection, Gianna. You’re the icy CEO of Regalia, the second scariest person—right after my daddy.” “Eve, what are you doing here?” Gianna quickly covered Yvonne’s mouth. Natalie blinked, caught off guard. Wait, the icy CEO? My sweet, crybaby best friend? At the sound of Gianna’s question, Yvonne suddenly remembered the important matter. She grabbed Natalie’s arm, urgency filling her voice. “Mommy you’re in trouble! Someone’s stealing the man of the house!” Natalie froze, confused. “Stealing the man of the house?” Yvonne’s tiny head bobbed up and down like a chick pecking at seeds, her round cheeks trembling with each movement. It was like soft, chewy cake. “Yes, Mommy! While you weren’t home, Stephanie seduced your husband and bribed Chris and me! She wants to steal your husband and become our stepmom!”