The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

All of Arnold's resentment had flown right out the window the moment he saw Asher.
Asher said, "You must've been worn out over the past few days. You haven't eaten yet, right?"
He lifted the plastic bag in his hand, waving it in front of Arnold. "I remember you saying you don't eat carbs, but if you're feeling
pressured or exhausted, you would reward yourself with some fried chicken. I bought fried chicken for you. I'm not sure which
flavor you like, so I bought a few."
Arnold's throat bobbed, salivating with anticipation.
In the end, he still let the man in.
However, Arnold maintained a little of his pride and gave Asher a cold face, sitting on the chair indifferently as he tried hard not
to look at the handsome man.
"As a doctor, saving lives is my duty. Even if it's not Chairman Thompson, I'll still do my best. You don't need to be so polite."
"Are you mad?" Ignoring his indifference, Asher asked softly instead.
Arnold's eyelashes fluttered. "Who... Who's mad?"
"If you're not mad, why are you crying?"
Arnold's heart was in knots, his face flushed, and he subconsciously glanced at the mirror on the wall.
In the reflection, his lips were tightly pursed, and his eyes and nose were red, looking like Rudolph.
Asher curled his lips, chuckling softly. He took out the fried chicken from the plastic bag and opened the boxes, placing them in
front of Arnold. He had even prepared plastic gloves, being considerate in every detail.
"You've worked hard." His voice was hoarse, carrying a hint of restraint.
Arnold's heart skipped a beat, and he met Asher's deep gaze in shock.
Asher pulled out a tissue to wipe Arnold's hands carefully, then sat down slowly in front of him. "It's just that my family is here,
and my father is sick. I am the eldest son. I have to take care of my father, comfort my family, and still make time to go to the
company to maintain our morale. Arnold, I'm sorry."

Arnold's chest heaved, and his nose tingled again. He quickly grabbed a fried chicken and took a bite. "Why are you
apologizing? It's weird..."
Asher's smile grew deeper as he stared at him. "Eat more. You've lost weight."
"Mm, it tastes fine, but remember to bring ketchup next time. My favorite is still the original flavor dipped in ketchup."
Arnold gnawed on a drumstick while sizing him up, his lips curling in a satisfied angle. "Oh, you're sweet I guess you really like
it."
"Yes." Asher nodded seriously.
Arnold suddenly leaned toward him, his pretty face magnifying in Asher's eyes. "Then do you like the suit more or me?"
Asher's long eyelashes lifted slightly. His dark eyes glinted with charm, drawing Arnold in without his realization. "Is there any
difference?"
Arnold knew this man was tricky, and he could not get the answer be wanted to hear even if he kept asking, so he could only
grab a drumstick and bite fiercely to vent his frustrations.
"Arnold, I genuinely thank you this time."
Asher expressed his heartfelt gratitude. "It's not just me who owes you one. The entire Thompson family owes you a big favor."
"So you don't plan to dismiss me with just fried chicken, right?" Arnold looked dissatisfied, but his mouth continued munching on
the chicken. "Of course not. Just tell me what else you want."
As soon as Asher's voice fell, Arnold suddenly tipped his chin, pressing his warm lips tightly against Asher's cool ones.
The exhaustion from the past few days immediately disappeared. His aggressive kiss carried a hint of resentment, obviously not
wanting to let the stubborn man off easily.
Though Asher remained passive, he closed his misty eyes, letting the little fox ravage his lips.
A teasing, passionate, and entangled kiss ensued.