Chapter 6:
1108 Words
Ricard took off his coat and draped it over Coco before walking to a corner. No one dared to approach him or ask what had happened and how Ricard could stand. Ricard’s cold, aloof nature made standing next to him feel like standing next to an iceberg. No one dared look him in the eye, let alone speak to him.
The fire continued to blaze, but we could hear fire trucks approaching. Firefighters arrived quickly and extinguished the flames.
As the sun rose, the remaining flames were extinguished. Police and firefighters were inspecting the scene, but everyone’s attention was focused on one thing: Ricard had stood up.
“Ricard, what happened?” Luna Rebveca approached him, her brows furrowed.
“I don’t know. I just suddenly woke up! Could the heat in the room be the cause? Or maybe I just didn’t want to die!” Ricard replied dismissively, his eyes fixed on the mansion, now reduced to ashes. What if he hadn’t woken up?
That night, at the hospital, the doctors conducted health checks on Ricard and Coco. The doctors confirmed Ricard was not seriously injured and deemed his recovery a miracle. The staff quickly cleared away the remnants of the mansion, and Luna Rebveca, Ricard, Coco, and everyone else moved to another property of the family, a new mansion.
In the days that followed, Ricard did not leave his room. He also had the news of his recovery kept under wraps. Since waking up, the only person he had seen was his assistant.
In her new room, Coco was busy arranging her belongings. Though this task was typically for the staff, she preferred to do it herself. Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.
“Coco, may I come in?”
She recognized the voice—it was Ricard. The sound of his voice whispering, “It’ll be okay” echoed in her mind. Coco whiffled her head to clear her thoughts, not sure why he was visiting her but nonetheless stood up, tidied her clothes, and opened the door.
“Please, come in.” Coco said politely.
Ricard entered the room and sat in the guest chair.
“I haven’t had the chance to thank you for what you did a few days ago. Thank you,” Ricard said, his voice as cold as ice.
Coco politely placed a cup of tea in front of him. They resembled colleagues or acquaintances, not a married pair.
“I should be the one thanking you. If it weren’t for you, I might not have made it out safely.”
“But you came back,” Ricard said, his gaze on Coco carrying an unreadable expression before he returned to his usual haughty demeanor.
“Tomorrow, I’ll take you for a prenatal checkup,” Ricard continued.
“Huh?” Coco was stunned, unable to believe her ears. Wasn’t Ricard known for his coldness? What was his reason for personally taking her to the checkup? Was it because she was carrying his child?
“No need to be surprised. After all, you’re carrying my child,” Ricard said flatly.
“Oh, I see.” Coco nodded slightly.
As she looked at the man in front of her, her heart inexplicably skipped a beat. Ricard surpassed Michael in terms of handsomeness. If Michael had a scholarly charm, Ricard exuded the aura of a strong, mature, and captivating man. His skin was neither pale nor dark, his nose straight, and his features sharp and refined. His tall, muscular frame stood at least six feet tall.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Ricard frowned, noticing Coco’s blatant gaze.
Realizing her impropriety, Coco quickly averted her eyes. Hesitantly, she spoke:
“Nothing, I was just curious... How did you recover so miraculously?”
“Nothing special. I just didn’t want to die! That’s all,” Ricard replied dismissively. Seeing this, Coco didn’t press further. If he didn’t want to talk, there was no point in asking for more. Additionally, he may be unaware of the reason. There are many miraculous things science cannot explain, and Ricard’s case might be one of them.
“There’s one more thing. Remember the nature of our relationship—it’s a contract, a marriage of convenience, with no love involved. I hope you remember that,” Ricard continued, looking directly into her eyes. “I need a wife to bear my child. That’s why my mother proposed to you. But don’t expect us to become more intimate. I don’t want or need that right now.”
Ricard’s declaration felt like a bucket of cold water dousing Coco’s soul. She didn’t know how to react, just standing there silently, her thoughts and emotions in turmoil. She had never hoped for true love in this marriage, but Ricard’s bluntness still brought a deep sadness.
“I understand,” Coco said, her voice firm. “Don’t worry, there will always be a boundary between us.” She looked at Ricard with determined eyes, her tone resolute. Like him, she didn’t want this relationship to develop. For her, he was just an opportunity, and marrying him was the only path she could take. Coco never expected anything more from this relationship.
“I also don’t understand what my mother saw in you. Sure, your face is pretty, but your taste in clothes is...,” Ricard trailed off, looking at Coco’s wardrobe with disdain. Old, cheap, outdated were the words he used to describe her clothes.
Coco was a modest and simple person, never caring much about fashion or appearing glamorous. However, her new life with Ricard, a man once considered vegetative but now fully recovered, seemed to demand change.
“Coco, you are my wife in name; you can’t dress like this,” Ricard’s tone suddenly softened, his gaze gentler.
“No need, really. I think these clothes are still wearable. Don’t waste money on me!” Coco shook her head repeatedly. She didn’t want people to think she married Ricard for money. Besides, she had saved diligently to buy those clothes. While they might mean little to Ricard, they meant a lot to her.
Perhaps their different upbringings and lifestyles were at play. He was the leader of a Pack, while she was just a girl struggling to earn a meager salary. Coco still couldn’t adapt to this change.
“You need to learn to change. It’s not just good for you but also for me! Remember, you’re not a lowly office worker anymore. You’re my wife!”
“I understand.” Coco reluctantly agreed. She knew Ricard wasn’t wrong, and she needed to learn to adapt.
- Writer
