Chapter 692 Punishment
Natalie nodded and she was indeed upset.
Oliver surveyed her, well-prepared, and without missing a beat said, "I did make amends afterward."
Natalie fell speechless, befuddled.
"I told you, didn't I? It’s me pursuing you, and you haven't agreed yet." Oliver patted Natalie's head, quite proud of his clever solution, "Mrs. Windsor can still claim to be single in public."
"...You've got to be kidding me!" she said while thinking, ‘Who would still think I'm single now?’
Images raced through Natalie's mind.
One moment it was Oliver on a show saying, "In my heart, she's always been my wife," and the next it was the fans going crazy online, plus Mia's animated figure bouncing on the spot, waving the flag of their fandom...
How did it come to this? And how did those netizens dig up so much irrefutable evidence?!
Natalie had a feeling that the next time she went to work, she would be surrounded by a circle of curious, gossip-hungry gazes.
"If you're not willing," Oliver said as he gently pulled on Natalie's hand, with a slight tug she found herself sitting on his lap, "You can tell them you turned me down."
‘To others, your refusal might not seem that significant,’ that's what Oliver thought.
Because most people love romance and choose selective hearing, only believing what they want to believe. And would the kids from the summer camp believe they had nothing to do with each other?
Once he had made his statement, those kids wouldn't keep quiet for fear of angering him. They probably already had several gatherings to spread the 'fact.'
Natalie fell silent.
She wasn't really angry to begin with, but Oliver’s casual tone, though he spoke as if it were a matter of no consequence, oddly conveyed a sense of pity to Natalie.
"I'm not angry..." Natalie said, feeling both guilty and uneasy, "It's just... surprising, and honestly, I never wanted you to keep things from me, it's not fair to you."
Oliver was quite pleased. Indeed, showing a little vulnerability often led to unpredictable outcomes. Ah, but he wasn't really showing weakness.
At most, it was a little, well, cajoling. Especially with his wife, someone as morally upright as Natalie, it was particularly easy to coax her.
"Oliver, aren't you usually very reserved? Why'd you go on the show and talk about this?" Natalie questioned him, suspecting he was influenced by something.
"Reserved?" Oliver raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Yeah, you've always been reserved before." Natalie only remembered the legend that was Oliver, whether it was his previous odd demeanor or his later charismatic resurgence, it seemed she preferred it when fewer people knew the ins and outs of Mr. Windsor.
Even among their acquaintances who lacked influence, there were many who were unfamiliar with Mr. Windsor's appearance.
"Maybe... I got bored of being reserved," Oliver said casually.
When it came to Natalie, he rarely kept a low profile. He wanted everyone to know Natalie was his wife. He wanted all those vying for her affection to fail miserably, to stand beside her and let everyone know they were a couple.
Even going so far as to say that they were a match made in heaven. However, being low-key did not satisfy his desires.
Natalie rolled her eyes, not buying it for a second!
"What are you looking at me like that for?" Oliver inquired.
"Huh?" Natalie was confused.
"Are you angry?" he asked.
"…No," she denied.
Oliver had a look of disbelief as if saying, "I don't believe you. You're lying to me. Your eyes just now were angry."
Natalie felt her expression was a picture of innocence.
After a moment's thought, she shifted her position on Oliver's lap, turning more towards him with both arms hooked around his neck, and nudged upward.
She offered a kiss and said, "That should do it, right? Can you tell I'm not angry now? If I were, I wouldn't kiss you."
Oliver was momentarily stunned, his gaze deepening as he looked into her playful eyes.
"Natalie," he called out to her, gently.
"Hmm?" she responded.
"Kiss me again," he requested.
Natalie was puzzled for a split second, but without overthinking, she leaned in again.
Their lips barely touched when suddenly a firm grip caught the back of her head, pulling her firmly downward.
Before Natalie could react, she was already pinned down on the couch by Oliver with a swift move.
The man's dark pupils whirled with obvious, surging emotions.
"Oliver... Oliver..." Natalie blinked, puzzling over what she had done to suddenly ignite his passion.
Unbeknownst to her, to him, she was a lethal attraction.
"You got the wrong name, sweetheart," Oliver whispered, kissing Natalie's cheek, declaring with finality, "That calls for a penalty."
The form of punishment was more than clear. That night, under the guise of reprimand, Oliver pursued his personal agenda with Natalie.
In her hazy consciousness, Natalie heard him ask, "Did you really intend to go public on your own?"
Exhausted, Natalie couldn't remember her response to Oliver; she only faintly recollected nodding, or perhaps lacking the energy to nod.
She only remembered thinking, ‘Something wasn't quite right; something felt off as if she had been played...’
Oliver, energized and vigorous from a full night's battle and still spirited at four in the morning, held the sleeping Natalie tightly with one arm, while he reached for his phone with the other. He opened the fan group chat he had secretly joined and suddenly spotted a message from someone...
A Bowl of Porridge had initiated the message.
A Bowl of Porridge: [Ahhh! Natalie and Oliver, OMFG! I called and confirmed it, they admitted it!]
The chat erupted with excitement and a cacophony of emotions.
Someone asked, who admitted it?
A Bowl of Porridge: [Natalie admitted it!]
Although Oliver seldom monitored the group chat, he had an exceptional memory and recognized "A Bowl of Porridge" as a long-time member with clout, always afire with initiatives like fundraising.
It had never crossed Oliver's mind that this could be someone he knew. After all, there were countless small-time, wealthy business owners back home who wouldn't think twice about tossing some cash their daughter's way for her fandom pursuits.
But now it seemed... as if it’s someone he possibly knew?
"Sweetheart," Oliver softly called to the person in his arms.
His voice was deep and mellow as aged wine, tender to the bone.
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