As dusk fell, Rosemary hailed a cab to Meadork Retreat. She had intended to hash things out


    with Maxwell over the phone, but for some reason, whether he genuinely didn''t hear it or was


    ying possum, he didn''t pick up.


    She wasn''t sure if Maxwell would return here since he''d been a rare sight these past few years. But


    after three years of marriage without ever fitting into his circle, hunting him down here was her only


    shot, like waiting for a rabbit to hit a tree stump - she had no other choice.


    After getting out of the cab, Rosemary hesitated in front of the vi swallowed by darkness, and


    then finally mustered the courage to go inside.


    She unlocked the door with her fingerprint and groped for the light switch on the wall. The bright


    lights flooded the living room, revealing Maxwell reclining on the sofa, resting with his head back.


    Brows furrowed, Maxwell raised his hand to shield his eyes andmanded in a very unpleasant


    tone, "Turn off the lights."


    Rosemary hadn''t expected him to be here. After the huge blow Victoria took today, she thought he''d


    stay by her side, offeringfort. She even braced herself for the possibility of a wasted night.


    Ccontent ? exclusive by N?/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.


    But since he was home, why the heck was he sitting in the dark? Weirdo!


    She turned off the living room lights, leaving only the foyer light on for a little illumination, and then


    sat down on the sofa opposite Maxwell, cutting to the chase, "Maxwell, drop the case. If you''ve got


    beef with me, bring it on. But leave innocent people out of it."


    She wanted to wrap things up quickly and get Ynda out. Of course, Maxwell was well aware of


    her agenda.


    Maxwell dropped his hand, his stomachache so bad he could barely muster the energy to talk.


    Already in a foul mood, his temper was now ring even more, "Is this you asking for a favor or


    picking a fight?"


    Rosemary was momentarily speechless. It was neither a plea nor a provocation; she was seriously


    trying to negotiate!


    Before she could speak, he went on, "Last time you were dining with some unrted dude in a


    lover''s restaurant, and now you''re here for another unrted person. Should I call you Mother


    Teresa or just two-faced?"


    His lips curled into a slight, cold, mocking smile. Rosemary''s first instinct was to snap back, but


    thinking of Ynda locked up in the police station, she swallowed the anger rising in her throat. Let


    him say whatever; she just wanted results.


    "Spit it out, what will it take for you to let Ynda go?"


    Maxwell knew she''de to him. If he really wanted to throw Ynda behind bars, he wouldn''t


    have shown up tonight, nor would he have given her the chance to talk. ying hard to get, huh?


    He sure knew how to pull the strings.


    Maxwell nced at the disposable shoe covers on her feet and scoffed, "Already treating this ce


    like a hotel when we''re not even divorced? What''s next, not evening inside?"


    Rosemary didn''t want to get into these trivial matters with him. In the two years and nine months


    she lived here, when had he ever cared whether she changed her shoes or wore shoe covers?


    Bringing this up now was just to vent for Victoria, making excuses not to free Ynda. Taking a


    deep breath, Rosemary asked, "What''s it gonna take for you to actually talk?"


    "I haven''t eaten all day; my stomach hurts. I don''t want to talk," Maxwell closed his eyes like he was


    showing her the door.


    Rosemary felt a throbbing in her temples out of frustration. She pressed her lips resentfully and


    asked, "So if your stomach didn''t hurt, you''d talk?"


    Maxwell''s voice was indifferent, "Probably."


    Rosemary knew he was brushing her off. Probably? Who knew what excuse he''de up withter


    to make things difficult. But for now, she had to bet he''d be willing to talk after filling his belly. She


    had no other choice.


    Biting back her rage, Rosemary headed to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she found a few bottles


    of water, a pack of pasta, and some eggs - thetter two she had bought a while back.


    The pasta was fresh with an expiration date, which was today. The nearby convenience stores were


    closed at this hour, and the closest supermarket was a half-hour drive away. Rosemary couldn''t be


    bothered, so she settled for the pasta that was about to expire.


    But just as she cracked an egg into a bowl, she heard Maxwell''s chilly voice from the kitchen


    doorway, "I don''t want pasta."


    "There''s only pasta." Rosemary responded without turning around, "The stores are closed."


    "Then go to another store. It''s not like all the stores in Greenwood are closed, right?"


    At his words, Rosemary couldn''t hold back any longer. She mmed the cutlery into the sink,


    turned around, and snapped at him, "Take it or leave it!"


    In the past, she would have made all sorts of dishes for Maxwell, no matter howte he returned.


    But those meals either ended up in the trash or with the driver and bodyguard. Now, her making him


    a te of pasta was already charity, and he had no right to be picky.


    Maxwell watched her, his gaze heavy, "Don''t want to bail out Ynda anymore?"


    Rosemary mentally cursed. In the end, she threw in the towel and asked him, "What do you want to


    eat?"


    He listed a few dishes, “braised prawns, crab, pork, salt and pepper ribs, and a vegetable soup.”


    These were all dishes she had made before that he had merely nced at and remembered.


    Rosemary''s brows furrowed - he sure knew how to order! But saying no would just lead him to use


    Ynda as leverage again. She quickly found a legitimate excuse, "It''ste, and you''re having


    stomach pains. You shouldn''t eat greasy foods."


    Maxwell''s gaze on her flickered, his voice suddenly softened, a picture of all kindness, "Then what


    should I eat?"


    Rosemary replied, "Porridge."


    "Huh," Maxwell chuckled, his features softening, giving off a suave, gentlemanly vibe.


    Was that a yes? Rosemary breathed a sigh of relief, but like a switch in an opera, his expression


    darkened, "Is this how you ask for a favor?"


    Oh well, some jerks never changed.


    On the way to the supermarket, Maxwell drove with a painful stomach, while the woman in the


    passenger seat looked furious, staring out the window, ignoring him since they got in the car.


    Arriving at the supermarket, Rosemary made a beeline for the fresh produce section. She used to


    shop here asionally and was fairly familiar with theyout.


    She was striding along at a brisk pace, the wheels of the cart ttering across the ground. Maxwell,


    with one hand casually in his pocket, strolled along behind her, his words slowly drifting forward


    laced with a mocking tone, "So eager to whip up something for me to eat, huh?"


    Rosemary shot a cold nce over her shoulder, "Vanity, that''s an incurable disease."


    The supermarket was pretty bare at this hour, with only a few shrimps left, listlessly lying at the


    murky bottom of the tank, unable to tell if they were dead or not.


    She scooped them up with a, didn''t even give them a nce, and dumped them all into her bag


    in one go. Maxwell, on the other hand, crinkled his nose in distaste, "Have you always been this


    pdash with grocery shopping? Didn''t you notice these shrimps are dead? Am I not paying you, or


    are you trying to get back at me on purpose?"


    Rosemary turned her head and retorted with full conviction, "If you darey a finger on Ynda,


    dead shrimp will be the least of your worries. I might just spike the dish with a little something extra."