Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 157

"Then be good and let me go. I need to get dressed," she said.

"If I'm good, will you favor me again, Mrs. Cross?" He lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers.

Isabelle flushed completely red.

Last night happened because I was drunk. Doing something like that while sober... I really couldn't.

How thick-skinned would I have to be?

She ducked her head, not daring to respond.

Damian pinched her incredibly soft cheek playfully. "I'm looking forward to it."

He'd developed a taste for it.

Isabelle pushed at him, and he released his hold.

"Turn around." She couldn't possibly change in front of him.

This man is capable of anything.

"Relax, I'm not that much of an animal," he said.

Isabelle was taken aback.

Suddenly, I feel like calling the police.

Fortunately, he chose to be a gentleman this time. He turned his back, didn't peek, and made no move.

Isabelle hurriedly put on her clothes and applied light makeup before following him out.

"Did you have breakfast?" she asked.

She hadn't seen him all morning, and they hadn't finished until three or four in the morning. How did he get up so early?

I'm afraid he'll work himself to death one day.

Or... exhaust himself another way.

"I did," Damian said.

Isabelle fell silent.

Of course. At this hour, who hasn't?

It was nearly eleven in the morning. Having "breakfast" now seemed a bit...

She'd rather go hungry than walk into the dining room.

However, a few others who had also slept in were there—Jonathan, Abigail, Brandon, and even Regina, who had just come down.

Regina was complaining, "That sweet wine last night had such a kick. I slept like a log, and my neck is stiff."

Isabelle's awkwardness immediately faded.

Damian chuckled softly beside her, seeing right through her worry.

"Quiet," Isabelle whispered, pinching his arm.

"Eat up. You need to replenish," Damian murmured to her.

Isabelle didn't let him off the hook. She put some braised lamb chops on his plate. "You, too."

Damian just smiled.

Christmas Eve was approaching.

Isabelle received two phone calls, one from Helena and another from Ashley.

She hadn't expected to hear from Helena.

As for Ronan, he had begun his long, arduous journey to win back Helena.

Isabelle sighed softly.

Marriage was supposed to be sacred. But in the business world, it often became just a stepping stone, devoid of any real feeling.

Two strangers came together as if completing a quest in a game.

Isabelle felt grateful that she and Damian weren't a marriage of convenience.

A union without love was fragile.

The second call was from Ashley.

She was out of the hospital, back in her spacious villa.

With Christmas approaching, the villa felt empty and hollow.

"Do you hate him that much?" Ashley asked.

Her tone was flat, devoid of obvious emotion, as if she had accepted everything.

"I don't hate him," Isabelle replied.

"You don't?" Ashley said. "Then why the anonymous tip? Why have him spend Christmas in a wheelchair, behind bars? Couldn't you wait? Let him have this Christmas before sending him in? Why the rush?"

Her words weren't aggressive, but the utter devastation Ashley felt was palpable.

She was crying, silent tears streaming down.

Ashley had lost her mother. Now her father wouldn't be there either.

She didn't throw a fit. It was as if she had grown up overnight.