My Substitute Wife Wants A Divorce by Lucy Arabella

Chapter 10 

Nelson. That was the name she uttered. 

Frank’s dark eyes narrowed slightly. Frost spread in his eyes. 

She was married to him, yet all she could think about was another man! She was truly despicable! 

His gaze towards Maria was filled with disdain and coldness. 

With a cold snort, Frank glanced at the maid still standing at the side and ordered coldly, “You can go rest.” 

“But Miss Greenwood…” Paige expressed some concern. Maria would be left unattended at night, and what if she woke up? 

“She won’t die.” Frank turned around abruptly and walked out of the room without looking back. 

Paige glanced at Maria, who was still sleeping on the bed, left the bedside lamp on, and left the room. 

Frank headed to a guest room. He felt no trace of sleepiness. He walked towards the balcony, pulling a lighter from his pocket and playing with it. 

It was a black lighter with a streamlined design. It was simple yet stylish. 

He didn’t smoke, but he kept the lighter because it was a gift from Nina. 

Although it was not expensive, it held sentimental value. 

Playing with the lighter, Frank gradually fell into contemplation. 

In the bedroom, Maria slowly woke up. She felt hungry, thirsty, and weary. 

The taste of the medicine still lingered in her mouth. Throughout the day, she seemed to have only consumed the medicine. and nothing else. 

She urgently needed to find some water. Otherwise, she might die of thirst. 

Struggling to lift her weak body, Maria leaned against the headboard and looked towards the bedside table. Except for the, glowing desk lamp, there was nothing there. 

Turning towards the nearby coffee table, she saw a flask and licked her parched lips. 

Lifting the covers from her, she got out of bed and took several unsteady steps towards the coffee table. Although it was a short distance, she was left gasping for breath. 

She extended her slender fingers towards the flask. Thirst lit her clear eyes.. 

However, that gleam was soon diminished. The flask felt unexpectedly light. It was empty. 

Maria licked her dry lips in frustration and reluctantly put down the flask. 

She decided to check the kitchen downstairs. Perhaps there would be water there. 

With that thought, Maria tried her best to prop up her body, supporting herself against the wall or the handrails whenever possible. 

With unsteady steps, she made her way downstairs, arriving at the kitchen. 

Upon entering the kitchen, the aroma of hot oatmeal greeted her. Maria’s hungry stomach immediately growled. 

Guided by the moonlight shining through the large glass window, she walked to the kitchen counter and quickly located 

where the oatmeal was. 

Maria eagerly opened the pot and found the oatmeal still warm. 

‘Who was it made for at this late hour? Perhaps for me?‘ she wondered. 

Maria shook her head. ‘It can’t be for me. Frank would rather see me dead. How could he generously have someone cook porridge for me? It must be for Frank. If I eat it, he would be angry! 

However, compared to Frank’s anger, it was better than starving to death. 

Once she realized that, Maria no longer hesitated. Grabbing a spoon, she savored the oatmeal heartily. When she grew tired of standing, Maria sat on the floor, hugging the pot as she ate. 

A cold voice rang out suddenly. “Who is in the kitchen?” 

His question was followed by a snick as the kitchen lights turned on. 

Wearing a black bathrobe with his hair slightly damp, Frank stood at the kitchen doorway, his ink–black eyes fixed on the scene inside.