Don't Be a Tease, Mr. Blackwood

Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Envious That My Husband Is Filthy Rich?

"You’re making requests now?"

’Treating him like my personal chef!’

Sophie Shaw awkwardly scratched the back of her head. Just as she was about to say "never mind," the man was already heading for the kitchen. As he walked, he said a single word—"Wait."

Judging by his tone, he wasn’t impatient.

Alaric Blackwood went into the kitchen and quickly returned with two sandwiches and a glass of warm milk.

After eating her fill, Sophie Shaw picked up her handbag.

"I really am leaving this time. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Blackwood."

She walked toward the entryway, bag in hand.

She heard footsteps behind her. It was Alaric Blackwood, who had grabbed his car keys and was following her.

The man put on his shoes in the entryway. "It’s hard to get a cab here. I’ll give you a ride."

"You don’t have to."

Alaric Blackwood paid her no mind, stepping out the door ahead of her.

After descending the steps, he walked over to the Maybach. Instead of getting in himself, he went to the passenger side and opened the door for her.

’Even though it was a marriage of convenience, Alaric Blackwood’s gentlemanly and considerate nature was quite satisfying.’

She walked over and got into the car.

The man leaned in close, and that faint scent of ebony and agarwood washed over her again, enveloping her completely.

Her nerves tensed slightly. She pressed her back against the leather seat, letting the man pull the seatbelt across and fasten it for her.

For a fleeting moment, Alaric Blackwood’s face was inches from hers, the bridge of his prominent nose lightly brushing the tip of her own.

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The seatbelt was fastened.

The man turned his head and gave her a captivating smile.

’Whether he meant to or not, his every move was laced with overt and subtle flirtation.’

’She had to admit, the man was a master flirt.’

With his handsome face and charming, almond-shaped eyes, one casual move was all it took to make Sophie Shaw’s heart skip a beat.

After they had been driving for a while, her heart rate finally returned to normal.

Before long, the car pulled up to the Kane family mansion.

Sophie Shaw thanked Alaric Blackwood and got out of the car.

From a window in a second-floor room, Damian Morgan happened to see this very scene.

He quickly pulled Vianne Kane over. "Vianne, look! Whose car is that?"

Vianne Kane said uncertainly, "It looks like Alaric Blackwood’s."

It was a bit far, but from the Mercedes-Benz logo on the hood, they could tell it was a Maybach.

"I saw Sophie Shaw get out of that car." Damian Morgan felt a sense of unease. "Vianne, didn’t you say Alaric Blackwood would never take Sophie Shaw seriously?"

"What? Are you upset that Sophie Shaw came home in another man’s car?"

A wave of jealousy washed over Vianne Kane. She pushed him in the chest. "If you’re having second thoughts, it’s not too late to back out."

Hearing her coquettish tone, Damian Morgan practically melted. He pulled her into his arms. "What makes you think I have any regrets? I just don’t want Sophie Shaw getting involved with Alaric Blackwood."

"I already told you, the Blackwood Family is just going through the motions. Even if Sophie Shaw really does marry Alaric Blackwood, what’s going to change? You think she can handle that Playboy?"

Damian Morgan kissed her cheek. "Vianne is right about everything."

"Stop it~ No more kisses~"

"I’m going to."

"I’m going to take a shower."

"Together?"

Vianne Kane huffed and pushed him away. "Get lost. I want a nice, fragrant bubble bath. Besides, you’ve already showered."

"Then I’ll wait for you in bed."

"Good boy. Go warm up the bed for your princess."

"As you command, Your Highness."

Damian Morgan eagerly flopped onto the large bed and burrowed under the covers, watching as Vianne Kane went into the bathroom.

As soon as he heard the sound of running water, he immediately got up and left the room.

As Sophie Shaw reached the second floor, she ran right into Damian Morgan in the hallway. The man stood there like a wall of flesh, blocking her path.

"Move."

"Who brought you home?"

"My husband."

Damian Morgan laughed contemptuously. "And who might your husband be?"

"Alaric Blackwood."

"Sophie, the news that you were going to elope with me is all over the place. Do you really think Alaric Blackwood will take you seriously now that you’ve married into the Blackwood Family?" freeweɓnovel.cøm

"What’s it to you?"

"Alaric Blackwood is a completely shameless Playboy surrounded by countless women. Don’t you find a man like that disgusting?"

"So what if he’s disgusting? As long as he’s rich, I don’t care."

Sophie Shaw stared coldly at the man before her. "So, you’re allowed to marry a rich, beautiful woman, but I’m not allowed to marry a tall, rich, handsome man? Damian Morgan, don’t be such a hypocrite."

With that said, she tried to walk around Damian Morgan, but he grabbed her wrist.

As if she had touched something revolting, she snatched her hand back, pulled a wet wipe from her bag, and began frantically scrubbing the spot on her wrist where Damian Morgan had touched her.

Her actions made Damian Morgan’s eyes turn red with fury. "What do you think you’re doing?"

"It’s dirty."

"Sophie Shaw!"

"Compared to Alaric Blackwood, you’re far more disgusting."

’He’d hooked up with Vianne Kane while they were still dating, deceiving her while simultaneously sweet-talking her stepsister. The man was a two-timing snake, and just thinking about it made her sick to her stomach.’

"I never even touched you. You should be grateful I didn’t."

Damian Morgan looked her up and down contemptuously, his eyes filled with disgust and malice. "Look at you. You’re flat-chested with no ass. You never wear makeup or care about your appearance. You’re like a block of wood, totally uninteresting. In the three years we were together, I couldn’t muster an ounce of interest in you. Do you really think a Playboy like Alaric Blackwood, who’s been with countless women, will be any different? You’re marrying him only to be cast aside and ignored."

Sophie Shaw couldn’t be happier if Alaric Blackwood had no interest in her.

"Not touching me was the only decent thing you ever did. So yes, thank you for that."

She walked around Damian Morgan and headed for her room.

The man stood frozen, staring at her retreating back. The image of her getting out of Alaric Blackwood’s car sparked an inexplicable wave of irritation in him.

Back in her room, Sophie Shaw tossed her bag aside and went straight to her desk. She opened her laptop and began drafting the marriage of convenience agreement.

When she was finished, she went into the bathroom to quickly wash up, then collapsed onto her soft bed and slept soundly.

「The next morning.」

She was in high spirits and, for once, had applied delicate, light makeup. She wore a slim-fitting black dress with a sophisticated long coat draped over her arm as she headed downstairs, bag in hand.

When she reached the dining room, she hung her coat and bag on the back of a chair, pulled it out, and sat down to eat her breakfast in silence.

Damian Morgan kept stealing glances at her, noticing she was wearing makeup. He was unexpectedly stunned by how beautiful she looked.

Sophie Shaw had naturally strong, defined features, and a little makeup only made her already striking face look even more exquisite.

Standing at five feet seven inches, she was tall for a woman. She rarely wore dresses, usually opting for whatever was comfortable, which meant her clothes were mostly casual and loose-fitting.

This was the first time Damian Morgan had ever seen her in such a form-fitting dress. It traced the graceful curves of her body, revealing a stunning hourglass figure.

Sophie Shaw ignored his stares. After finishing her meal, she put on her coat, grabbed her bag, and prepared to leave.

Damian Morgan followed close behind her out of the dining room.

"Dressed up all seductively like that. Are you going to try and seduce Alaric Blackwood?"

His words were dripping with sour, aggressive jealousy.

Sophie Shaw put on her high heels in the entryway, her tone cold. "What are you so sour about? Jealous that my husband is loaded?"