Chapter 11 Foolish Woman

Fall had not arrived yet, but the night wind was already chilly. Tiffany wrapped the trench coat tightly around her body as she got off the taxi. Beneath the trench coat was a lovely violet evening dress. It had a high slit, and as she walked, her long legs were visible under the skirt. They looked very enticing. She was not actually used to wearing something as charming as this, but Angus had said that if a woman wanted to thrive in the business industry, she would have to make an effort to dress up. Tiffany was eager to change into a comfortable outfit of a T-shirt and jeans once this was all over, so she walked quickly. She was completely unaware of the person sitting on the sofa in the living room. She did not notice Mortimer’s presence until the lights were turned on. Mortimer was wearing a dark grey silk shirt, and his slender hands were gracefully placed on the coffee table, revealing the silver diamond watch on his wrist. He looked dark and mysterious. Tiffany sensed that something was wrong but dared not ask about it. She acted as if nothing had happened, hoping to slip away. Mortimer, however, could not let her wish come true. He lifted his eyes nonchalantly and said in a deep voice, “Are you not even going to say hello to your husband?” Tiffany didn’t know why Mortimer was so aggravated today, nor why he was deliberately causing trouble for her. Yet, she apologized obediently. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” Mortimer’s blue eyes narrowed slightly. He raised his hand. “Come here.” Tiffany swallowed nervously. “If you have something to say, just say it.” “I do not like repeating myself!” Seeing Mortimer’s annoyed expression, Tiffany did not dare to be stubborn. She walked over slowly and stood by his side. From his angle, he could see Tiffany’s legs, which were exposed through the trench coat. A belt was wrapped tightly around her slender waist. The moment he thought that Tiffany had dressed up on purpose to please other men, a strange feeling irritated his heart. He grabbed Tiffany’s wrist and pushed her down on the sofa with little to no effort. He looked at her delicately powdered face and leaned down. His throat bobbed slightly. “Did you even put makeup on? Looks like you had fun out there.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me go!” Panicked, Tiffany tried to break free from his iron grip, but Mortimer held on even tighter. “You’ve obviously gone to drink with some other man. Do you still want to lie to me? Have you forgotten that I hate lying women the most?” “I didn’t lie!” Tiffany retorted loudly. However, Mortimer did not seem to have heard her. He put his hands into her clothes and pressed his lips over hers. The moment their lips touched, he was stunned. How strange. Her lips didn't taste of alcohol. He regained a sliver of clarity and looked down at Tiffany, who was being crushed beneath him. She lay on the sofa, misty-eyed. She could not understand why Mortimer refused to believe her, much less why he wanted to treat her so harshly. Thankfully, he did not continue making her uncomfortable. He released Tiffany and then pointed at her dress. “I don’t like this dress of yours. Dispose of it now.” Tiffany raised her head. The tears which had welled up in her eyes finally rolled down. “You want me to strip in front of you?” “Yes.” Seeing that Tiffany was curled up motionless on the sofa, Mortimer at once picked her up and yanked at the dress! The dress, which was already ruined, was now split into two rags. Tiffany was so angry that she yelled, “You’re a demon!” Under the light, Tiffany’s slim shoulders trembled as she sobbed. Mortimer’s gaze was dark when he saw how fragile she looked. A moment later, he listlessly put the blanket on the sofa around her body. Tiffany swiped at him, eyes reddened. “I don’t need your sympathy!” Mortimer’s heart hardened. “Even if you’re a woman that I do not want, you must remember that you are a lady of the Campbell family!” he said impassively. Tiffany returned to her room wrapped up in the blanket and slammed the door shut. Mortimer’s cold face softened a little. He was always rational. It was the first time that he had lost control like that. The phone on the table vibrated, creating a buzzing sound, and Mortimer picked up the phone. It was a text message. “Sir, I heard that Miss Tiffany had a bad time with the director of Union Bank in the restaurant. She nearly called the police.” Mortimer rubbed his forehead with his hand, heaving a deep sigh. Monroe’s voice sounded from outside the room. “Are you asleep, madam?” Tiffany opened the door and saw Monroe standing with a glass of hot milk and a plate of soufflé. “You did not eat anything for dinner. It’s not good for your stomach. Please eat something before you rest.” Tiffany was grateful for Monroe’s kindness, but after the argument with Mortimer, she had no appetite. Monroe put down the plate. “Actually, Master Mortimer ordered me to prepare this for you.” “Mortimer?” Tiffany couldn’t quite believe it, thinking that Monroe was merely lying to make her feel better. Monroe smiled. “The master’s temper is indeed quite bad. But please believe me. He is not a bad person. I think that he feels regretful after losing his temper at you.” “Is that so?” Tiffany took a piece of the sweet treat and put it into her mouth. The sweetness that melted on the tip of her tongue did in fact make her feel better. She then picked up the evening dress. “Could you please help me get a tailor to fix this? I rented this and I don’t have the money to pay for it.” “Of course, madam.” Monroe put away the dress. “Have a good night’s rest after this meal. Master Mortimer might take you to see Madam Kelly at the villa tomorrow.” In the master bedroom on the other wing of the house, Mortimer was being evaluated by a personal doctor. “Your muscles heal at a much faster rate than the average person,” the doctor said, praising him. “It seems that the madam’s massage is very useful.” “Massage? Do you mean Tiffany?” The doctor was stunned. “Didn’t you know? Tiffany has taken care of you ever since she married you. She even learned a specialized massage technique. Besides your good physique, the reason why you’re able to walk after waking up is because of your wife’s care.” Mortimer said nothing. The image of Tiffany crying appeared slowly before his eyes, distracting him. If it were anyone else, they would have eagerly taken credit for it. But she had refused to tell him anything. What a foolish woman.