Bake my love

"Take the pill."

Following their intimate moment, the mans indifferent voice echoed in her ears.

Weary and spent, Emily Thompson swallowed the contraceptive pill provided by Mr. Moore and then, with aching limbs, fetched his coat.

Watching as he donned the coat, she stepped forward to tie his tie, smoothing out the minute creases on his suit jacket, behaving like any dutiful wife would.

Throughout this routine, Mr. Moore observed her with cold, dark eyes that flickered with a hint of menace.

Emily instinctively recoiled, sensing his... anger?

Carefully finishing with the tie, she was about to step back when Mr. Moore abruptly seized her wrist and, without warning, said, "Burton Moore is returning to the country today."

Hearing the name she hadnt heard in so long, Emily paused, her expression momentarily rigid.

The next instant, her jaw was forcefully grasped, compelling her to meet Mr. Moores icy gaze.

"Why, at the sound of your old lovers name, cant you control yourself?" His mockery was palpable, and Emily felt embarrassed, instinctively trying to avert her gaze, only to be held in place by Mr. Moores grip on her wrist. His words dripped with sarcasm: "Emily Thompson, dont forget your current status."

"You did date Burton for a year, but it was you who, like a shameless woman, climbed into his brothers鈥攎y鈥攂ed because you found him incapable! If you dare to be unfaithful and tarnish the Moore familys reputation, I will make your life a living hell!"

Emilys face paled under his grip, the blood draining from her face as Mr. Moores words "climbed into bed" and "shameless woman" stung her eyes red with the effort to hold back tears. She broke free from Mr. Moores hold and, with a vigorous swing of her arm, expressed her anger in sign language!

鈥攜ou could have refrained from touching me!

鈥攜ou knew it wasnt her at the time!

Emily Thompson is mute.

A mute who can never scream in anger, whose most furious expressions are limited to exaggerated hand gestures, seen as ridiculous by others.

Mr. Moore watched her expressionlessly, as if observing a jester, his eyes growing colder.

"Emily Thompson, it was you who handed me that glass of wine," Mr. Moore fastened the last button on his shirt, his demeanor sharp and chilling, like a drawn blade.

"Had it not been for that night, Anna would not have run out into the street and ended up in a car accident, still lying in a hospital in M country."

Without another word or glance, Mr. Moore turned and left, leaving Emily feeling drained and pale.

It wasnt her... She had no idea the wine was drugged...

That wine was switched by Anna, claiming she wanted to share in her engagement joy, but who would believe that?

Everyone was convinced that she, a mute, was not satisfied with climbing onto the noble and reserved younger Mr. Moore, and on the night of her engagement, stepped over Burton Moore to climb into the bed of the head of the Moore family!

Two years ago, Emily Thompson, as Burton Moores fianc茅e, first appeared at the Moore familys gathering. Despite not uttering a word throughout the event, Burtons tenderness towards her and her delicate, beautiful silhouette captivated all the girls present, including Mr. Moores then-girlfriend, Miss, who switched wine glasses with her to share in her joy.

But after one glass of wine, when Emily came to, she had "climbed" into Mr. Moores bed, and was caught and photographed by the press, becoming known throughout the city!

Mr. Moores girlfriend of two years, Anna, in a panic under the relentless media coverage, ran out into the street and was hit by a speeding car. By the time Mr. Moore, sobered and in pursuit, reached her, critically injured Anna had already been flown to M country for surgery.

Burton, overwhelmed with humiliation and grief, soon left to study abroad!

The scandalous engagement was directly called off, and such a scandal put Mr. Moores position in the board of directors at risk. Amidst the media frenzy, Mr. Moore married Emily.

The once highly admired figure in Liangcheng, Mr. Moore, was dragged off his pedestal overnight due to an affair with his brothers fianc茅e and the coma of his first love, becoming a stain on his life, a sight that pained him just to look upon.

Emily zoned out, cutting her finger with the knife by mistake, drawing blood.

She winced in pain, sucking in a breath, and as she tended to the wound, Mr. Moores assistant, Zheng Yan, entered from outside: "Madam, we must depart."

Emily nodded and left with Zheng Yan.

Outside, a car was waiting with the rear door open. Mr. Moore sat inside, engrossed in a document, his tall and noble presence making even the Rolls-Royce seem cramped.

In terms of appearance, Mr. Moore was impeccable.

With his chiseled features, sharp jawline, and eyes filled with an aloof coldness that only added to his masculine charm, he was undoubtedly the object of many a socialites admiration.

Emily sat in, feeling his overwhelming presence even more palpable in the confined space of the car, her discomfort growing as she clenched her hands nervously.

Mr. Moores gaze lightly swept over her, pausing briefly on her injured finger before settling on her face.

The woman rarely wore makeup, but today she had dressed up carefully, her full, soft lips painted, her nose pert, and even the strands of hair that had not been pinned up, falling against her pale skin, exuded an indescribable allure.

Mr. Moores throat tightened involuntarily, recalling the womans tearful, pleading eyes from the night before.

But as he thought of something, his eyes visibly chilled: "Dressed up to see your old lover? Cant contain your heart as a wanton woman, planning to offer a glass of wine to Burton today?"

The sudden sarcasm left Emily staring at him in disbelief!

She had dressed up only because she was going to the main residence, having been too exhausted from his torment the night before to look pale and unwell upon arrival, which would become another reason for criticism at the Moore residence.

After all, Mr. Moores parents had never approved of her, ready to reprimand her for the slightest impropriety.

She bit her lip so hard it almost bled.

Mr. Moore sneered as he closed the file, turning to pinch Emilys chin, his dark eyes filled with mockery: "Hurt? A few words and youre wronged; this isnt the Emily Thompson who handed the wine glass to her fianc茅s uncle with a smile. The way you smiled to achieve your goals is still a topic of delight."

The photo of Emily Thompson toasting Mr. Moore, her profile soft, her gaze meek and appropriate, her nose and chin delicately fragile, was captured as a stunning silhouette, admired by the media.

But then it was revealed that Emily Thompson had climbed into Mr. Moores bed, and that photo became evidence of her calculated seduction!

The harsh words all turned into sharp needles, and Emily Thompson, fighting back tears, tried to gesture with her hands.

"Enough," Mr. Moore said, not looking, closing his eyes to rest. "No one cares about your thoughts."