"I'm the one who spoiled her, and I don't regret it." Steven's voice turned icy. "She's not feeling well right now. Even if it were a star in the sky, I'd pluck it down for her."
By the time she returned, night had fallen.
Her head spun, aching fiercely.
Stella, the maid, seeing her return, hurried to take the oil-paper bag from her hands. Feeling the scalding heat, Stella exclaimed, "Madam, you're burning up!"
"Give these to him."
"What took you so long?"
Steven's brows furrowed deeply at the sight of her. As Stella began to mention Evelyn's fever, he had already extended his hand. "Hand me the macarons."
Iris, seated beside him, feigned weakness. "You went through so much trouble, Mrs. Lawson... But why is the bag wet? Macarons are ruined when damp."
"Is that so? Throw it away."
