Chapter 143


    If it truly wasn’t him, then this matter wasn’t as simple as it seemed.


    Gwendolyn narrowed her cold gaze, still harboring suspicion, as she looked at Maverick.


    She pinched his cheeks with all her might.


    His cheeks bulged like he had two buns in his mouth. His handsome eyebrows were slightly furrowed,


    and his bright eyes resembled the eyes of a distressed pet.


    “I’ll believe you this time, but if I find out you’re still deceiving me, I’ll immediately throw you into prison.


    Let’s see how long you canst and how long your subordinates would take to get you out.”


    She finished speaking and angrily retracted her hands.


    Maverick slumped down on the floor, feelingpletely drained.


    He wanted to say something, but a bitter taste abruptly surged up his throat, causing him to choke and


    cough violently.


    It felt as if his lungs were about to be coughed out.


    He wasn’t afraid of being imprisoned; even if Gwendolyn locked him inside, few would dare to harm


    him.


    However, he didn’t want Gwendolyn to continue misunderstanding him.


    Cough! “I-I will go to hell if I lie.”


    Gwendolyn turned her head and nced down at him once again.


    His face had turned pale from coughing, and he still ran a fever. The expression of pain on his face was


    evident when he frowned.


    Perhaps it was due to the effects of the special drug, but he appeared like a long-suffering patient who


    couldn’t recover.


    Even Elven and William felt slight sympathy when they saw his pitiful state.


    Gwendolyn, however, remained expressionless. Her gaze was on him, and no one knew what was on


    her mind.


    After a while, she turned to Elven and William and said, “Which of you can cook some oatmeal for him


    and bring it over?”


    Elven and William exchanged nces, clearly perplexed.


    “Ms. Shalders, you might as well ask me to start a fight. Cook oatmeal? I have no idea how…” Elven


    voiced his hesitation.


    William chimed in, “I don’t know how either. Really!”


    Gwendolyn was speechless.


    Perhaps she should hire a few bodyguards with decent cooking skills next time.


    She looked at the person on the floor and contemted asking him to handle it himself.


    The person seemed to notice her gaze and suddenly coughed even harder, sounding extremely pitiful.


    Gwendolyn pursed her lips.


    “Fine, help him back to bed, and I’ll take care of it myself.”


    “All right!”


    After giving the orders, Gwendolyn headed downstairs, found the oats in the pantry, and started


    cooking oatmeal.


    After helping Maverick return to bed, William descended to the kitchen and sought Gwendolyn.


    “Ms. Shalders, do you believe Mr. Wright’s words?”


    “I do, but not entirely. I only trust conclusive evidence. If it wasn’t him, there should be some clues left


    behind.”


    She pondered momentarily and continued with her instructions, “Since he ims to have sent Sherman


    away, investigate the matter further and see if it aligns with his ount.”


    “Yes,” replied William.


    Then, he hesitated for a moment and continued, “Honestly, I do believe in Mr. Wright.”


    Gwendolyn’s hand, stirring the oatmeal, paused briefly. “Tell me more,” she urged.


    “Considering his ability to discreetly bring Noah in and out of prison, it’s clear that he possesses


    formidable power. Removing Natasha would have been a simple task for him, and if he truly wanted to


    do so, he would have done it long ago. Then he could have taken Natasha and disappeared to a small


    country overseas, where even gods would struggle to find them. There was no need for him to risk


    staying in the vi afterpleting such a task, risking your discovery.”


    Gwendolyn remained silent.


    In the heat of the moment yesterday,bined with Maverick’s misinterpretation, Gwendolyn had


    readily epted it without delving deeper into the matter.


    Upon closer reflection now, she realized there were indeed many inconsistencies in the details.


    If it wasn’t Maverick, then who could it be?


    A sudden thought crossed Gwendolyn’s mind.


    Could it be the person from the Harris family who had harmed her?


    If it was that person, when did that person discover she was still alive and in Faike?


    And why would he go through the trouble of freeing Natasha from prison?


    What was that person’s next step?


    While she was lost in her thoughts, a terrified expression showed on William’s face.


    “Ms. Shalders! The oatmeal! Ah!”


    Huh? What was that?


    “The oatmeal! Ms. Shalders, it’s burnt!”


    A waft of a burnt odor infiltrated her nostrils, and she btedly realized what had happened. Hastily,


    she turned off the stove.


    Thankfully, while the bottom of the pot had charred, the rest of the oatmeal was salvageable, albeit


    barely.


    Instructing William to carry out her previous orders and investigate further, Gwendolyn retrieved a small


    bowl and carefully portioned the cooked oatmeal into it.


    While going up the staircase, her attention was drawn to Maverick’s partially ajar door.


    Contemting whether to push the door open, she paused and peered through the narrow gap. Her


    gaze fell upon Maverick, who was rolling up his pant leg and applying ointment to his knee.


    His skin had be quite delicate, and the impact ofst night’s kneeling had left his knees and lower


    legs covered in dark bruises.


    Gwendolyn’s brows knitted together in concern. Despite them kneeling for around the same amount of


    time, Maverick looked much more injured.


    Ever since he had signed the agreement, Gwendolyn had lost track of the countless instances where


    Maverick knelt on his own ord or was made to kneel, and the wounds he sustained seemed to


    persist without respite.


    The once proud and fierce man who brimmed with arrogance seemed to have truly been tamed by her.


    But why didn’t she feel particrly happy about it?


    Upon careful consideration, it seemed that he had paid off his debt.


    Gwendolyn brought her thoughts back to the present, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.


    Then, he hesitoted for o moment ond continued, “Honestly, I do believe in Mr. Wright.”


    Gwendolyn’s hond, stirring the ootmeol, poused briefly. “Tell me more,” she urged.


    “Considering his obility to discreetly bring Nooh in ond out of prison, it’s cleor thot he possesses


    formidoble power. Removing Notosho would hove been o simple tosk for him, ond if he truly wonted to


    do so, he would hove done it long ogo. Then he could hove token Notosho ond disoppeored to o smoll


    country overseos, where even gods would struggle to find them. There wos no need for him to risk


    stoying in the villo ofterpleting such o tosk, risking your discovery.”


    Gwendolyn remoined silent.


    In the heot of the moment yesterdoy,bined with Moverick’s misinterpretotion, Gwendolyn hod


    reodily epted it without delving deeper into the motter.


    Upon closer reflection now, she reolized there were indeed mony inconsistencies in the detoils.


    If it wosn’t Moverick, then who could it be?


    A sudden thought crossed Gwendolyn’s mind.


    Could it be the person from the Horris fomily who hod hormed her?


    If it wos thot person, when did thot person discover she wos still olive ond in Foirloke?


    And why would he go through the trouble of freeing Notosho from prison?


    Whot wos thot person’s next step?


    While she wos lost in her thoughts, o terrified expression showed on Williom’s foce.


    “Ms. Sholders! The ootmeol! Ah!”


    Huh? Whot wos thot?


    “The ootmeol! Ms. Sholders, it’s burnt!”


    A woft of o burnt odor infiltroted her nostrils, ond she belotedly reolized whot hod hoppened. Hostily,


    she turned off the stove.


    Thonkfully, while the bottom of the pot hod chorred, the rest of the ootmeol wos solvogeoble, olbeit


    borely.


    Instructing Williom to corry out her previous orders ond investigote further, Gwendolyn retrieved o smoll


    bowl ond corefully portioned the cooked ootmeol into it.


    While going up the stoircose, her ottention wos drown to Moverick’s portiolly ojor door.


    Contemploting whether to push the door open, she poused ond peered through the norrow gop. Her


    goze fell upon Moverick, who wos rolling up his pont leg ond opplying ointment to his knee.


    His skin hod be quite delicote, ond the impoct of lost night’s kneeling hod left his knees ond lower


    legs covered in dork bruises.


    Gwendolyn’s brows knitted together in concern. Despite them kneeling for oround the some omount of


    time, Moverick looked much more injured.


    Ever since he hod signed the ogreement, Gwendolyn hod lost trock of the countless instonces where


    Moverick knelt on his own ord or wos mode to kneel, ond the wounds he sustoined seemed to


    persist without respite.


    The once proud ond fierce mon who brimmed with orrogonce seemed to hove truly been tomed by her.


    But why didn’t she feel porticulorly hoppy obout it?


    Upon coreful considerotion, it seemed thot he hod poid off his debt.


    Gwendolyn brought her thoughts bock to the present, pushed the door open, ond stepped inside.


    As Maverick noticed her approach, he let go of his rolled-up pant leg, adjusted the covers, and leaned


    against the headboard, waiting for her.


    Holding the bowl of oatmeal, she sat on the chair next to his bed. She stirred it gently with the spoon.


    Her every movement exuded elegance and gentleness as she blew on it to cool it down.


    Maverick’s gaze was intense, and his heart fluttered when he looked at her.


    He licked his pale lips, and his dark eyes gleamed with anticipation. He was obediently waiting for her


    to feed him.


    Gwendolyn noticed his gaze, but her expression remained unchanged as she blew on the oatmeal in


    the bowl, devoid of any emotions in her eyes.


    Sensing that the oatmeal in the bowl had cooled down, she extended the bowl and spooned it to him.


    Maverick hesitated for a moment, not reaching out to take them.


    “Take the food and eat it yourself. I won’t feed you.” Gwendolyn’s tone was icy.


    Maverick felt a sting in his heart, suddenly overwhelmed by a profound sense of disappointment and


    grievance.


    He didn’t take it, his eyes slightly red as he looked at her. “It hurts. I can’t eat it by myself.”


    Gwendolyn mercilessly exposed his pretense. “It’s your knees that are injured, not your hands. How


    can you suddenly be unable to eat?”


    Maverick didn’t want to give in.


    “But I have a fever, and I feel dizzy.”


    Gwendolyn’s face turned cold. “Look at how eloquent you are. Your brain seems unaffected by the


    fever. You don’t have to eat it if you want to keepining!”


    She made a motion to get up, intending to take the oatmeal away with her.


    Maverick quickly snatched the bowl from her. Although he couldn’t get what he ultimately wanted, at


    least she cooked the oatmeal herself. Not eating it would be a loss.


    But as he took a mouthful of oatmeal, he almost spit it out on the spot.


    “Why does it taste burnt?”


    Gwendolyn felt a bit embarrassed.


    There was no way she could say she was so preupied with Natasha’s matter that she forgot to


    watch the me.


    “If you don’t like it, then don’t eat it. You can cook for yourselfter,” she said, reaching out to take the


    bowl.


    Maverick dodged to the side, not letting her take it away. A protective expression soon shed across


    his face.


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    Then, under Gwendolyn’s gaze, he directly gulped down the entire bowl of oatmeal.


    Because it was burnt, the taste and texture of the oatmeal were not pleasant. Maverick endured the


    urge to retch and showed her the empty bowl of oatmeal he had finished.


    Gwendolyn knew it wasn’t good, and seeing his reaction, her lips involuntarily turned downward.


    Since he had finished his meal, it was time for the next step.


    She took out a piece of paper that Elven had printed and handed it to him with an indifferent


    expression.


    “Take a look and sign it.”


    Maverick unknowingly took it from her.


    After reading the words on it, he became angry.


    “You want to terminate our employment agreement?”