Buying My Forever Wife novel Chapter 66

He turned his head toward the living room.

Ivy was actually still patiently trying to coax the child.

Stella had lost all patience. She jumped up, stomping her little feet in frustration, and yelled:

"You're both liars! You aren't the kind of married couple that has babies together! You're just a babysitter Daddy paid to take care of me! I hate you both!"

With that, the little girl pushed away the plate in Ivy's hands and bolted up the stairs in a furious huff.

Watching the small figure disappear, Ivy was completely at a loss.

She walked tentatively over to Alaric, her voice tinged with panic.

"Mr. Foster, what should we do? Stella is really upset."

Alaric didn't even look at her.

He sat perfectly upright, his expression a mask of indifference, and replied in a tone that was practically glacial.

"She's just a child. If you want to calm her down, just satisfy her demand."

"Huh?"

Ivy was completely thrown. "But... but what she's asking for is..."

She couldn't even bring herself to say it out loud.

Surely Mr. Foster had heard everything clearly just a moment ago.

She absolutely could not cross that line.

Alaric finally turned to look at her, his expression deadly serious. "Is kissing me really that repulsive to you?"

Ivy gasped in shock.

Her eyes darted around the room in pure panic, her expression twisting into a knot of utter confusion, while her heart suddenly hammered wildly against her ribs.

She quickly dropped her gaze to the floor, completely incapable of stringing together a coherent sentence to mask her extreme embarrassment.

Seeing her reaction and her failure to offer an immediate explanation, Alaric felt a sharp sting of bruised ego.

Was she genuinely repulsed by him?

Was this twenty-something girl actually looking down on him, a billionaire CEO?

Unable to handle the blow to his pride, Alaric's face instantly darkened, and his voice dropped to a freezing register.

"If you can't calm Stella down, I see no reason for you to stay here any longer."

Feeling thoroughly suffocated by the interaction, he threw his napkin down, stood up, and headed straight for the stairs.

"Mr..."

Ivy spun around, staring at his broad, retreating back, her face scrunching up in sheer distress.

It wasn't that she found him repulsive; she was just terrified of him!

"Since Mr. Foster said that, he obviously wants you to kiss him. Just think about it—he's a healthy man in his early thirties, and he hasn't had a woman by his side for years."

"You're his wife. Don't you realize what he needs?"

Ivy was speechless.

She knew exactly what a man wanted.

But Mr. Foster had explicitly warned her never to reveal the true nature of their relationship to anyone.

On top of that, he had once mockingly claimed that if she slept with him, he would pay her for it.

To him, crossing that physical boundary was no different than treating her like a cheap escort.

She refused to lower herself to that level.

"Just go upstairs and comfort the little miss. Don't be foolish enough to actually get yourself thrown out. You have no idea how many women would kill to be in your position."

Mrs. Gable was so stressed by their dysfunctional dynamic that she half-wished she could just lock the two of them in a room together and throw away the key.

Ivy murmured a quiet "okay" and tiptoed up the stairs.

She continued to mentally brace herself.

It's fine. It's just one kiss.

If it meant she got to stay, she'd kiss him ten times if she had to.