Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 100

But when she called him "Mr. Cross" in front of others, especially her admirer, it did grate on him a little.

Isabelle could feel that simmering irritation. If they didn't talk it out now, once she recovered, he'd probably pin her to the bed and finish the argument there.

She watched his expression carefully. "Are you mad?"

He showed no particular emotion, just continued eating his soup. "No."

He wasn't angry, just a bit... disappointed. Here he was, a CEO, married but feeling like it was something to be hidden, tiptoeing around.

"Are you jealous, then?" she asked.

"It's normal for a friend to be concerned," Damian replied, his tone somewhat dismissive.

Isabelle said tentatively, "He's interested in me."

"I can tell."

"Oh."

Damian frowned. Oh? What did that mean?

She stopped asking. It felt pointless, and he seemed utterly indifferent anyway. What was the use? Such a fine man, but with a serious communication problem.

After just a few bites, she went upstairs and fell into bed as soon as she touched it.

At night, she heard the rapid clack of keyboard keys from the study. It made her head throb.

She couldn't get up. Her throat felt parched, and her whole body burned as if on fire. In her haze, she called out, "Damian..."

She had no idea if he could hear her.

In her daze, she felt a presence settle beside her, a large, cool hand pressed against her forehead. It felt wonderful.

Soon, she was propped up against the headboard, her head resting against his solid chest.

"Water..." she whispered.

A straw was guided to her dry lips. She drank greedily, feeling a bit of strength return.

"So hot..." She forced her heavy eyelids open and made out the figure beside her.

And two family doctors at the bedside.

They were discussing something. She couldn't make out the words; her head was buzzing, the noise threatening to split it open.

She was laid back down.

Some time later, she felt a large ice pack being placed beside her, which enveloped her.

Cool. Amazing.

She reached out, hugged it directly, cooled her left cheek, then flipped it to cool her right.

She didn't fall into a deep, peaceful sleep until around four in the morning.

By two in the afternoon, she finally woke up. She felt clear-headed, her spirits lifted.

She went to the study—no one was there. She figured Damian was probably at work.

Without overthinking it, she washed her hair, took a shower, and headed downstairs in her pajamas.

Huh? Did he sound a bit congested?

Wasn't he upset last night? This petty man changes his mood so fast.

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