Free Web NovelChapter 38: Chapter 38 Confused
Sylvia’s POV
I turned my face away from Caesar, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his intense gaze. "The scandal blew up so badly, whoever took those photos probably won’t dare show their face again."
But what if they did?
Caesar sighed quietly, choosing not to push the issue. "Fine. Let’s head home now."
What I didn’t know was that he’d already dispatched people to investigate the stalker. Until they had something concrete, he wouldn’t rest easy with me out in the open.
"Okay," I murmured, following beside him but keeping a cautious distance.
Caesar’s thick brows furrowed. From last night until now, I’d been... off. Not angry. Just withdrawn. Distant. Avoidant. When he reached for my hand, he caught nothing but air as I slipped mine into my jacket pocket—perfect timing, or a deliberate dodge?
I pretended not to notice. "Where’s your car?"
"Right here." He pushed down the strange pang in his chest and opened the passenger door for me. Once I slid in, he closed it and walked around to the driver’s side.
"There’s not much food at home," he said casually. "Want to stop at the market?"
My head throbbed, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and disappear. Still, not wanting to stir suspicion, I nodded.
At the supermarket, Caesar expertly pushed the cart through the aisles. "Besides groceries, we can look around if anything catches your eye. We’ve got time."
I shook my head. Every minute here felt heavier.
When I opened my mouth to speak, my throat scratched painfully, making me cough. My limbs ached, and my head buzzed.
Maybe running out of the mall earlier and then walking in the cold hadn’t helped. A cold was coming on.
"Maybe... fish. Something steamed," I rasped.
"I’ll pick one out." Caesar handed me the cart and headed to the seafood counter. He selected a fresh fish and spoke with the clerk.
When he glanced back, he found me staring silently—not at him, but at the rows of chocolate nearby.
So she wants chocolate, he thought absently.
"Sir, your fish is ready," the clerk called.
The moment his back turned, my legs wobbled. I barely caught myself against a nearby shelf.
My forehead didn’t feel hot, but everything around me was blurring. I told myself I just needed sleep.
"The fish is ready," Caesar said, returning to my side.
"Great. Get whatever else we need—you’re the chef," I managed.
He moved quickly, gathering ingredients, grabbing a few chocolate boxes, and heading for self-checkout.
"Wait in the car," he said, handing me the keys. "I’ll be right out."
"Sure."
I don’t even remember getting home. Everything between the store and bed was a haze.
When I opened my eyes, I was in bed, dimly lit by a soft lamp. Distant kitchen sounds clinked through the air. Something smelled incredible.
My stomach growled.
"You’re awake?"
It was the fourth time Caesar had checked on me. He walked in, handed me water, and helped me sit up.
"Drink. I’ll bring porridge. You’ve got a fever. You need to eat and take medicine."
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, hating the weakness. Alphas weren’t supposed to get sick. But here I was—feverish, coughing, and cared for by a man I wasn’t sure how to feel about.
"I don’t need—" I started, but a cough overtook me.
Caesar was there instantly, supporting my back and helping me drink. "Slowly," he said, voice gentle.
This wasn’t the cold Alpha CEO everyone knew. This was someone else—someone softer, whose concern reached deeper than obligation.
My wolf knew it. She pressed toward him, desperate to close the gap my heart kept hesitating to cross.
When the coughing stopped, I took the glass from him, our fingers brushing. Despite the fever, that electric thread zinged through me.
"Alphas don’t get sick," I muttered stubbornly.
He chuckled. "Even Alphas."
He sat beside me, studying me so intensely I turned away. I probably looked like hell—sweaty, pale, weak.
"You’ve been dodging me," he said quietly.
Not a question. A fact.
My fingers tightened around the glass.
"I haven’t—"
"Your heartbeat changes when you lie," he cut in gently. "It always has."
I went still. Caught.
"If I did something wrong..." he started, then paused. That hesitation—that flicker of vulnerability in his voice—was rare. "Tell me."
"It’s not you," I whispered. "It’s me. I’m... just trying to figure things out."
"Figure what out?"
About us. About how fast things moved. About the way my wolf responded to him even as my human side still ached with the past. About how I’d spent years pretending to be an omega—only to now be confronted with someone who didn’t want me smaller, softer, less.
Before I could put any of that into words, he stood.
"Rest. We’ll talk after you’ve eaten."
He reached the door, paused.
A steaming bowl of rich century egg and pork congee wafted its delicious aroma through the bedroom. Just the smell alone made my stomach growl with anticipation.
I took the bowl Caesar offered and eagerly tasted a spoonful. The congee was incredible—silky smooth with perfectly tender rice grains and the delicate texture of century egg melting against my tongue.
Each bite warmed me from the inside out, spreading comfort through my fever-chilled body. Before I knew it, the bowl was empty.
I glanced up, suddenly aware that Caesar was still sitting beside the bed watching me. My cheeks flushed with heat that had nothing to do with my fever.
"Have you eaten yet?" I asked, feeling self-conscious. "You should go eat. I can manage on my own."
Caesar took the empty bowl from my hands, his fingers brushing mine. "Do you want more?"
I hesitated, embarrassed by my appetite, then nodded.
He smiled—that rare, genuine smile that transformed his usually stern features—and rose to his feet. When he returned, he brought not only more congee but also a glass of water and medicine.
"After you finish eating, take these," he instructed, setting everything carefully on the nightstand. "Then rest. Leave the bowl—I’ll come back for it later."
His tone was gentle but firm, the powerful Alpha treating me with a tenderness I wasn’t accustomed to. I realized he’d been sitting there watching me eat simply to make sure I was feeling better.
I felt myself relax as he left, giving me space. Looking at the bowl, I noticed it was only half-filled this time. I’d planned to go get more if needed, but after finishing, I felt perfectly satisfied—exactly at that eight-tenths full sweet spot. How did he know my appetite so precisely?
A flash of light outside the window caught my attention. I slipped out of bed and moved to the curtains, carefully peering through a small gap. In the shadows below, a furtive figure moved between cars. freewebnσvel.cѳm
A paparazzi, I guessed. This eighteen-story building in the heart of downtown was home to several celebrities on different floors. The luxury location attracted wealthy residents who valued convenience and privacy—privacy that some people made a living violating.
In the living room, Caesar was eating his own bowl of congee while checking his phone. His expression had hardened into something dangerous.
The investigation into who took those photos had yielded results. A notorious paparazzo known for fabricating explosive stories for the right price—someone willing to destroy reputations without hesitation. Someone who had targeted me specifically.
But like an eel, this photographer had proven slippery, impossible to catch.
There was really only one person who had reason to come after me this way.
Zane.
