Novel1Chapter 0292
Hannah
| stared at Noah, unsure of what to say. | had assumed that he wouldn't show up today, since | had taken care to
schedule our meetings during his work hours, but it seemed | was mistaken. And now he wantedto cup
with something to do.
“We could go out to eat,” he suggested, counting off on his fingers. “Or watch movies. I'll even take you
shopping if it would make you happy. Anything to make you less stressed.”
| blinked, still trying to process the situation. The Noah | knew wouldn't skip work for me, let alone offer to take
7... I'd rather just stay home,” | said, secretly hoping he would be content to go to his study and leavewell
enough alone.
To my relief, Noah nodded. “Alright, if that’s what you want.” He turned and left the room without another
word.
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Satisfied, | picked up my book and began to read again. Finally, speace and quiet. | sank deeper into the
couch, relishing the solitude.
But
my contentment was short-lived, because a few minutes later, Noah returned with a tray in his hands. “Healthy
snacks and protein shakes,” he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table and turning to me. “Get up.”
“Why?”
“Please, Hannah.”
With a loud huff to show my disdain, | stood and watched as he spread a few blankets across the couch, plumped
the pillows, then turned on the TV and navigated to a streaming platform.
“What are you doing?” | asked, peering at the tray of food: milkshakes, popcorn, fruit, carrots and hummus.
“Sit,” was all he said as he handeda milkshake. “I put protein powder and prenatal supplements in it.”
| obeyed, sitting beneath one of the blankets and nervously sipping the milkshake. It was delicious, of course,
but made it feel a bit like | was his broodmare again-being fattened up solely for the sake of producing a healthy
heir.
His heir. Not mine. | was just the prisoner who would be forced to carry it to term. The thought left a bitter taste
in my mouth that overpowered the chocolatey sweetness of the drink.
“How is it?” he asked, plopping down next toand flipping through the available movies.
| couldn’t help myself. “For a jail warden, you treat your prisoners pretty nicely.”
Noah's expression tightened, but he didn’t stop searching for a movie. “Again, you're not a prisoner. How many
times do | have to say it?” He paused, flicking on sromantic comedy that | hadn't seen in years, then kicked
back and began snacking on spopcorn he had brought out.
| remained silent, sipping my milkshake, but my frustration grew despite his kindness. Once again, this felt too
performative, too fake. He wasn’t doing this for me. He was just doing it so that | would have gained
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Chapter 0292
sweight for our next appointment and nothing more. So he could look like the ‘doting Alpha‘ again.
After a few minutes, | couldn't take it anymore. Seeing the couple on screen instantly fall in love in the midst of
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmtheir coffee shop meet-cute was enough to drivemad.
“This movie is boring.” | said. It was a lie, of course-I loved this movie-but | couldn't bear to look at it. Without
waiting for a response, | reached for the remote and shut off the TV, then made a show to shove my half-finished
milkshake away. “And this milkshake tastes like chalk.”
| hoped my bad attitude would push him away, but Noah seemed unperturbed. Without so much as batting an
eye, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a deck of cards. “Okay. How about we play Go Fish?”
“I hate that game,” | said flatly, crossing my arms.
“Okay, how about Poker?” he suggested calmly, shuffling the cards.
“No.”
“Blackjack?”
“No.”
Suddenly, a mischievous glint appeared in his eye, one | hadn't seen since the summer hunt. That felt so long
ago now, even though it had only been two days. “Strip Poker?”
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