"Ah. Such a fake ass," Alexia muttered with a smirk after Lilian ended the call.
Bella's smile faded immediately, her chest tightening. "Babe, what was that about? I hope you have a good explanation because your attitude was disgusting."
"She called you fake first," Alexia snapped. "And she said she's been keeping an eye on you. What does that even mean?"
"Did you hear her mention my name?" Bella asked, voice firm. "It might just be a misunderstanding false accusations happen."
Alexia scoffed. "Oh my God, Ella. You're so dumb. So fucking dumb and naïve."
Bella's eyes widened. "No, Alex. I'm not dumb or naïve. I think the reason you're like this is because you're jealous."
The word slipped before she could stop it. Silence stretched, heavy and awkward. Alexia's face stilled, clearly not expecting that.
"I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that," Bella stammered.
"No, it's fine." Alexia's voice was tight. "Maybe I was nosy. I was just looking out for my friend. And if looking out for you makes me a jealous friend, then so be it."
"Alex, that's not what I meant." Bella reached out, desperate to fix it.
But Alexia shook her head. "It's okay, Ella. This will be the last time I talk about Lilian. Be careful around her. I'll pick up the dresses tomorrow. Goodnight."
The call ended abruptly, leaving Bella staring at her blank screen, guilt settling heavily in her chest.
The door opened. Chris and Elliot walked in with the food just in time to see the sadness clouding her face.
"Babe, are you okay?" Chris asked gently, studying her expression.
Bella forced a smile. She didn't want him to worry. "What did you get me?"
"Pot-au-Feu," Chris said, setting the bag on the table and handing her a neatly packed container.
Bella's eyes lit up. "Aww, that's one of my favourites when I was in France." She inhaled the aroma deeply, excitement replacing the heaviness in her chest. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Chris said with a small smile.
"How did you even know it was my favourite?" she asked curiously.
Chris smirked. "It happens to be one of mine too."
"Oh? I thought you were strictly Italian-food only."
"I'm not limited to one cuisine," Chris replied smoothly. "I enjoy good food, whether it's Italian, Chinese, Korean, Nigerian, or French."
Bella blinked, surprised. "Wait you eat Korean and Nigerian food?"
"Of course. I love Gimbap, Tteokbokki, Jajangmyeon, Sundubu-jjigae. Kimchi especially."
Bella's mouth dropped open. "Wow. I never imagined you, of all people, would like Korean dishes."
Chris leaned closer. "What about you?"
"I love Jajangmyeon, kimchi stew, and Gimbap," Bella said, her smile finally reaching her eyes again. "I still want to try Tteokbokki though."
"Then you'll try it with me," Chris promised.
Her cheeks warmed. "We'll see."
"Enough talk. Eat before it gets cold," Chris said, nudging the container toward her.
Bella dug in eagerly, only to wince as the hot broth burned her tongue. "Ouch!"
Chris nearly dropped his fork. "How many times have I told you to be careful? You'll drive me insane."
"I didn't know it was that hot," Bella defended.
Chris arched a brow, staring at the steam rising from the bowl. "Only a blind man wouldn't see that." His smirk softened the scolding, making Bella laugh.
They ate quietly for a while until Bella asked, "Where are Desmond and Princely? I thought they were here when you left."
"They must have stepped out," Chris said. Then his expression grew serious. "You should call home."
Bella frowned. "Why? Did something happen?"
"No. I spoke to Kayden earlier. I told him you wouldn't be back as scheduled. I didn't tell him about the hospital."
Her eyes softened. "What did he say?"
"He was worried. He asked you to call him. He sounded anxious."
Bella nodded. "I'll call him before I sleep. And Chris you don't have to stay here with me. Don't you have a meeting tomorrow?"
"As important as the meeting is, you're more important." Chris's tone left no room for argument. "So I'm staying."
Bella shook her head, smiling faintly at his stubbornness.
Chris turned to Elliot. "You can head back to the hotel. You look exhausted."
"Alright, sir. Will you still make the 8 a.m. meeting, or should I postpone?"
Chris smirked. "If I wanted a virtual meeting, Elliot, I wouldn't have flown two hundred miles to be here."
"Understood. I'll pick you up in the morning," Elliot said, slipping out.
Bella tried once more. "Chris, seriously, you should go. I'll be fine."
He didn't answer. Just reached for her hand and squeezed it. That silence told her everything.
Bella called Kayden to reassure him she was fine. Her voice was calm, but her eyes strayed to Chris. He sat slouched in one of the chairs, head tilted back against the headrest, his shirt slightly creased, his exhaustion plain. Guilt pricked her chest. He hadn't rested properly because of her.
With the IV still in her hand, Bella rose carefully to use the toilet. As she passed him, she caught herself staring. He was breathtaking, even in his tiredness.
Chris's lips curved into a faint smirk, his eyes half-lidded but sharp. "Am I that handsome that you can't stop staring?"
Bella startled at his voice, stumbled, and nearly lost her balance, but Chris caught her before she fell.
"Sorry," he murmured. "Didn't mean to startle you."
She swatted his arm lightly. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Are you okay now?" he teased. "Because the way you were looking at me was borderline creepy."
"Yes, I'm better," Bella replied with a shy smile.
Chris motioned toward his lap. "Sit."
She hesitated, then obeyed, curling against him. His warmth was steady, comforting, and before long, they both drifted into sleep.
The next morning, Bella awoke in her hospital bed, sunlight streaming through the blinds. She remembered falling asleep on Chris's lap. He must have carried her back to the bed. The thought alone made her smile.
But when she looked around, the chair was empty. Chris was gone.
Bella checked her phone it was nearly ten. She recalled Elliot reminding Chris of an eight o'clock meeting, so she knew he had left for it.
Two doctors and several nurses soon entered to discharge her. Once the IV was removed and the paperwork signed, Bella messaged Chris to let him know she had already gone. She didn't want him to waste time coming back.
She hailed a taxi to the hotel and, when she opened her suite door, she froze.
The interior was stunning. Marble floors, gilded mirrors, soft cream drapes every detail screamed luxury. Her suitcase sat neatly in a corner. Bella searched for the dress Chris had promised in his note and found a carefully packed carton in the wardrobe.
Inside was a complete outfit: a sleek black mid-thigh Chanel turtleneck dress, a camel-colored winter coat, Louis Vuitton heeled boots, and a matching Chanel mini purse.
Her jaw dropped. "When did he have time to plan all this?"
She tried the pieces on; each fit perfectly. "But how does he know my size?" she whispered, cheeks flushing as she admired her reflection.
Meanwhile, at Femco Restaurant, Cassandra and Cindy sat with seven other society women. Cassandra Hampson immediately commanded the room the aura of wealth and authority clung to her like perfume.
"Welcome to the club, Miss Hampson," said a woman in her early forties, smiling eagerly. "It's an honour to have you with us."
"And you are?" Cassandra's gaze swept her coolly.
"I'm Helen Swift," the woman replied, straightening. "My husband is the Minister of Finance, and I'm the only daughter of Wilma Oil and Gas."
Cassandra scoffed. "I didn't ask for your family tree. I'm only here because of Cindy. I can't stand parasites."
Gasps echoed around the table.
"Did you just call us parasites?" demanded Aliyah, a woman in her fifties.
"Not all of you," Cassandra said sweetly. "Just the pests who sneak around trying to crawl into married men's beds." She pressed a mocking hand to her lips.
Every eye turned to Helen.
Cassandra rose, walked to her, and bent down so their faces nearly touched. "You should have done your research before coming near my husband." Her voice was icy.
Helen's face blanched. "I...I.."
"I don't ever want to see you near him again. Do you understand?"
Helen swallowed hard, unable to speak.
"Mrs. Hampson, please," Cindy said softly, trying to calm her friend.
Cassandra smirked and returned to her seat. "If you want me in this charity circle, she goes. I don't sit in the same room with women who lust after my husband."
The tension was suffocating. Cassandra stood, prepared to leave, but Cindy quickly pulled her arm.
"Ladies, we'll call you," Cindy told Helen, who huffed, rolled her eyes, and stormed out.
"Don't come back!" Cassandra called after her.
The others sat stunned, too intimidated to challenge her.
Later, outside, Cindy walked Cassandra to her car.
"I hope you're putting in a good word for Thelma with Chris," Cindy said with a forced laugh.
"I already set up a meeting between them. It's up to your daughter now," Cassandra replied smoothly as she entered the car.
"Yes, but it would help if you encouraged him. You know children listen to their parents."
"I'll talk to him," Cassandra said curtly, then tapped the driver to move.
Cindy muttered under her breath as the car pulled away, "So rude."