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Yet, only an hour had gone by—or even less—before she was back. Furthermore, he could
not hear any emotions in her voice.
“Come in,” Stanley then said without dwelling on it anymore.
Hearing that, Joyce returned her hand to her side and inhaled deeply. Once she pushed
open the door, she greeted, “Mr. Quinn.”
Stanley hummed in response. “You're back.”
Joyce nodded, but she kept her gaze lowered as she walked toward the table. “I came
back after taking the thermal food jar home. There isn't any hot water left, so I'll go and
get some.”
With that, she took the kettle, about to head to the kitchen.
Staring at her retreating figure, Stanley called out, “Wait.”
Joyce halted in her tracks. “Anything I can help you with, Mr. Quinn?”
“Turn around.” Stanley frowned when he realized she kept talking without looking at him.
Joyce lifted her head a little and bit down on her lower lip, but most of her face remained
out of sight from Stanley's eyes. “Mr. Quinn, please tell me what you need help with.”
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Once he figured out that she was refusing to turn around, he furrowed his brows even
tighter and lowered his voice. “Joyce, I told you to turn around.”
Then, he added, “Don't make me mad, okay?”
There was no way Joyce was going to remain stubborn after that, so she knitted her brows
and reluctantly turned around.
However, that did not seem to satisfy Stanley. “Raise your head and look at me.”
Irritation pricked at her.
She did not understand why he was insisting she turn around when he could have just told
her what he wanted.
Not only did he want her to turn around, but he even wanted her to raise her head to look
at him.
He was clearly trying to make things difficult for her.
Fury roared through Joyce's mind, but she dared not show it on her face. After a sigh, she
slowly lifted her head to look at Stanley.
Despite that, she kept her eyes half-lidded.
Stanley barked out a laugh in anger, but he said nothing else after that.
He was aware that her turning around and looking at him was a significant act of relenting,
and he understood that constantly pushing her to give in would push her to her limits.
If she ended up crying...
Stanley's expression turned serious, and he abandoned his previous train of thought.
Instead, he inquired, “You didn't just come from the Rivers residence, did you? You were
outside the room earlier, right?”
Joyce's eyes shifted, but she remained silent.
So he did hear me break the glass and guessed that it was me.
When he heard nothing but silence from Joyce, Stanley continued saying, “You overheard
quite a bit of my call, didn't you?”
At that, Joyce turned her focus to him, her eyes meeting with his.
At that very moment, Joyce felt her heart skip a beat. She panicked and quickly lowered
her head again.
Stanley was simultaneously angry and exasperated with her avoidance. Pressing his lips
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmtightly together, he then continued, “Why aren't you answering me?”
Joyce hung her head even lower and whispered, “There's nothing for me to say. I can't
possibly think of joking words as the truth, right?”
“Joking words?”
He knew that she would not believe him, but he never thought she would think of his
words as part of a joke.
“Are they not?” A mocking smile grew on Joyce's lips. “You can't have been speaking the
truth, can you, Mr. Quinn?”
“What if I say I was telling the truth?”
Joyce stiffened.
Really? Was he really telling the truth? Did he really fall for me?
Joyce caught a glimpse of Stanley's solemn expression, but she was uncertain whether it
was a reflection of his genuine seriousness or simply the lack of expressiveness on his
face.
Joyce lowered her gaze again, the mockery on her lips more visible. “Please don't joke with
me anymore, Mr. Quinn. This isn't funny.”
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