Chapter 619 Tying You Up with Fine Dining
The maid in front of her just waved her hand, and what she said Winnie couldn't understand either.
Winnie had serious doubts about the origin of their native language. Frantically, she gestured and eventually retrieved a cell phone from another person's pocket.
Upon opening it and exploring its contents, she was surprised to discover an old flip phone. The text displayed on it was unfamiliar to her, and there were no apps installed that she recognized.
She proceeded to borrow several more phones, only to encounter the same situation each time. Ultimately, she was overcome with despair.
'What kind of place is this, devoid of any familiarity or comfort,' she thought to herself.
"Madam." The butler walked over in a timely manner, clearing his throat and saying, "Madam, Lawrence has prepared breakfast for you. Please come over now."
Winnie pursed her lips and turned away.
The butler glanced at the maids, gesturing for them to leave, then continued, "Sorry, Madam, these maids are not very articulate. They only know one sentence in English, 'Sir, Madam.' They can't speak any other languages. If you need anything, just tell me."
"You?" Winnie looked at the butler without a smile and retorted, "Can you lend me a phone?"
The butler scratched his head and said, "I'm sorry, Madam. I only take orders from Lawrence." Irritated, Winnie quickly crossed the corridor.
In the spacious American-style restaurant, Lawrence, donning an apron, emerged with breakfast.
Winnie glanced at the spread on the table, which included chicken soup, avocado salad, egg toast, soft-boiled eggs, and colorful fresh fruits. The man removed his apron, struck a handsome pose, and gazed at her.
"Winnie, let's see if your husband's culinary skills have waned." Winnie felt a tingling sensation on her scalp, overwhelmed by his audacity.
'Husband? Does he have to be so immersed in his role?'
As she gazed up at his towering figure, he removed his apron, revealing a white T-shirt that matched her own attire for the day.
Knowing that he typically wore white shirts and black trousers, this more casual outfit made him appear several years younger.
His chiseled jawline, straight nose, prominent facial features, and thin lips were highlighted by the morning light and stood out against the white-themed house, giving him the look of a youthful man rather than the mature figure she was accustomed to.
With his black short hair falling around his face, his narrow eyes appeared shadowed, and any trace of hostility seemed to have vanished. Winnie watched the scene before her, feeling slightly dazed.
Without the usual fluctuations in their relationship, he seemed like a typical husband—handsome and aloof yet filled with tenderness. "What's the matter? Am I so good-looking that you're speechless?"
Lawrence observed Winnie's stunned expression and smiled. "I used to win you over with my cooking. Now, I'll capture your heart with it as well. Sweetheart, stop staring and give it a try.
He picked up a piece of chicken with his fork and knife, offering it to her mouth.
Winnie suddenly came to her senses, almost choked by his shamelessness. "When did you ever capture my stomach with your cooking? Have you no shame."
The curve of his lips deepened, deliberately saying, "How many times did I cook for you when things were good? Do you acknowledge that my cooking is good?"
'How many times?' Winnie thought to herself.
During that time, he had been so proud. Living in the mansion and occupied day and night, how could he find time to cook for her? The few times she recalled, they almost drifted apart.
However, on Christmas Eve, Mrs. Rodriguez called her back, and he held her in the kitchen, guiding her in preparing mushroom-stewed chicken soup. Unpleasant and lengthy memories came rushing back, a pang of pain flickering in her clear eyes. Lawrence also noticed it, feeling regretful.
"Go ahead." She took a bite of the chicken, and he settled in, lifting his cup to take a sip of water.
His eyelids drooped slightly as he spoke, "I didn't do enough before. From now on, I'll prepare your breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. I'll spoil your taste buds so that you won't want to eat anyone else's cooking. Darling, what would you like for lunch? We have a variety of ingredients here."
"Can you tell me which island you've brought me to?" Winnie inquired. Lawrence set down his cup and reached for his knife and fork to cut open the soft-boiled egg, gracefully offering half to her plate. "Interested in trying the creaminess of the soft-boiled egg? Enjoy a bit more, and we can go surfing later.
Winnie knew he was being forceful again.
Using her fork, she crushed the soft-boiled egg, taunting, "Is this supposed to be smooth? Lawrence, you've never tasted Rock's cooking. Don't bother; my stomach has been well taken care of by Rock this past month. I can't even swallow what you make."
The sound of the fork being thrown onto the plate, Lawrence's slender fingers clenched into a fist.
His good mood was completely ruined by the mention of 'Rock.' He glared at Winnie, sharp-tongued and retaliatory, and she never learned her lesson!
Winnie felt his arrogant gaze and lowered her head to eat, ignoring his stiff expression.
Though she hated him and had no intention of harmonizing with him, she wouldn't argue with her own appetite. She still needed to gather strength to escape.
"Heh." He suppressed his anger, observing her difficulties with eating, and remarked, "You're quite upfront, aren't you? You can't even swallow it, yet you seem to be enjoying yourself. Why not acknowledge that you still crave my cooking and are accustomed to this taste?"
Are you blind? Can't you see I am just trying to fill her stomach?" Winnie dismissed him, continuing to jab at him, "It's just ten times worse than what Rock makes."
"I told you this morning; I don't want to hear those three words from your mouth again! Winnie, you keep provoking me," Lawrence warned her with an embarrassed look.
Winnie calmly raised her head and confronted him, "I tried to talk to you normally, but you didn't answer any of my questions. You're rude to me, so why should I be polite to you? When I mention Rock, I'm thinking of him naturally. If you can't stand it, that's your problem. You said this morning you wouldn't harm me. It's fine; if you want to hit me, go ahead. It's desolate here. Even if you kill me, it won't matter."
Lawrence didn't understand how her small mouth had become so ruthless.
She had to provoke him to be happy.
Every inch of her body was filled with hatred and resentment towards him.
It didn't matter. He had hurt her for more than just a day or two. It wouldn't be possible to placate her in such a short time. As long as the two of them remained on this deserted island without any interruptions, he had plenty of opportunities.
"Besides what happened last night, how could I bear to harm you," Lawrence's thin lips curled mischievously. Walking over to her and leaning his broad body down, he dangerously narrowed his eyes at her.
"But if you keep mentioning Rock, then I'll have to silence you." Winnie turned her head, ready to glare at him, but he sat down beside her and suddenly picked her up, laying her across his lap. He embraced her, lowered his head, and kissed her.
Winnie had just finished drinking sweet milk, her mouth full of a lovely and light fragrance. This scent, combined with her body's softness, quickly darkened Lawrence's eyes.
Originally intending to shut her up, he found himself awakening to memories from the previous night.
His body gradually tensed, his strong arms tightening around her waist, unable to hold back.
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