Flash-Married My Mysterious Mogul Husband-1
Chapter 7

Chapter 7: A Late–Night Meal 

The moment Helene picked up, Carlisle demanded to know why she didn’t go home after work. His Grandpa was waiting for her to have dinner, and he still hadn’t eaten yet. 

Helene’s heart stopped as she realized she had totally forgotten about her responsibilities. She was so busy that she forgot that she was married altogether. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve got my hands full with something right now. I’ll be back later.” 

“I’ll pick you up,” Carlisle said bluntly before hanging up. 

If he said he was going to pick her up, then was that to say he knew where she was? Confused, Helene called him back, but 

he didn’t answer. 

After making sure her grandmother was okay, Helene was eventually pushed out of the ward by one of the doctors. It was past ten, and visiting hours were over, so she had no choice but to leave. 

At about the same time, Carlisle had arrived at Helene’s old apartment. He looked up to the third floor and figured that Helene was inside. The window to her apartment was blocked by curtains, and the shadow of two silhouettes could be seen embracing each other intimately. It was a man and a woman whose figure looked just like Helene’s. 

They had only been married for two days, but the woman had gone off to spend time with another man. She must have 

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thought he was a fool. 

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Carlisle was enraged and began honking his horn several times. But instead of alerting the two upstairs, he instead angered the other residents at the complex. 

“Why the hell are you honking your horn in the middle of the goddamn night? Are you out of your mind?!” 

Carlisle slammed his steering wheel once more, feeling sick to his stomach. 

Later that night, Helene had returned to the Bamford family estate, to find that Carlisle wasn’t back yet. 

“How inconsiderate of Mr. Bamford to come back so late after just getting married,” Matilda remarked. 

“Where did he go?” Helene asked. 

“No idea. But what I do know is that his Grandpa has been waiting for you for dinner. You said you’d call if you weren’t coming back in time.” 

“That was my mistake. I’ll make sure to let you know next time,” Helene replied guiltily. 

Then, Matilda admitted that although the old man had been waiting, he eventually went to bed. Now that Helene didn’t need to worry about dinner with him anymore, she returned to the bedroom. As soon as he sat down, she heard the sound of Carlisle whipping the door open. He was so violent that he nearly broke the hinge. 

Helene stood up and asked, “You’re back?” 

Carlisle was visibly taken aback when he saw her. “Where have 

Chapter 7. A Late–Night Meal 

you been?” 

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“My grandma got sick and I just came back from the hospital.” 

“Oh, really? Your grandmother is sick?” Carlisle sneered. “And let me guess. You’re going to say that your grandma needs surgery and you need even more money! Right?!” 

“What are you trying to say?” Helene shot back, angry to hear the sarcasm in Carlisle’s tone and the distrust in his eyes. “You can go to the hospital if you don’t believe me.” 

Carlisle suppressed his rage and took a breath before asking, “Helene, what else are you hiding from me?” 

“What do you want to know?” 

After taking some more time to regain his composure, he asked, “You had a boyfriend before this, right? You lived with him for three years, and now you’re pretending to be single so you could marry me. Do you think I’m some sort of idiot?” 

The lights were off in the room, turning Carlisle into a dark figure looming above Helene. He looked like a demon, complete with a murderous air about him. 

“What? You looked into me?” Helene was taken aback to hear that this man knew these things about her. 

“Why wouldn’t I? Would I have to if you were just honest with me?” 

“Fine, I had a boyfriend. But that was in the past.” Helene retorted angrily. “We broke up before I married you. The terms of our agreement don’t say anything about past partners. So what if I dated someone else before? What does 

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that have to do with you?” 

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Helene, unsure of how else to take this confrontation, figured that Carlisle must have regretted giving her so much money. Now he was finding any reason to start a fight with her. 

“I never said that. But you’re still in touch with him now, aren’t you? Go ahead, lie to my face again!” 

“We haven’t been in touch since we broke up.” 

“Really?” 

“If you don’t believe me, hire another private investigator!” Helene’s exclaimed, her rage boiling over. “If you want the truth, I married you for money! That’s it! If you hate me that much, you can divorce with me as soon as tomorrow, but I won’t be able to give you back your money right away. I used all of it to pay for my grandma’s operation. I’ll give it back to you sooner or later, and I swear I’ll never ask you for another fucking penny.” 

As Helene finished speaking, she picked up her luggage and was ready to leave. But before she could reach the front door, Carlisle grabbed it and pulled her back. 

“I can’t afford to lose my wife after only a single day married to her,” Carlisle said. He was calm now, and now that he had his wits about him, he knew that the woman in the apartment couldn’t have been Helene. It was impossible for Helene to have arrived home before him. 

As he came to this realization, he knew that he had treated Helene unfairly. Without saying another word, he removed one of the cushions of the sofa, revealing a storage 

compartment underneath. Then, he effortlessly lifted the 

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cover and threw her luggage inside. 

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Helene watched as he did so, wondering if he was afraid that she would run away and amazed at his strength. Yesterday, Helene tried to lift it, but it wouldn’t budge. 

What the hell was Carlisle trying to do? 

“Go get something to eat. I’m hungry,” Carlisle said casually as he took a seat on the sofa. He opened his laptop. It seemed he was going to squeeze in a bit more work while he waited for his meal. 

But it was so late, and Helene didn’t know what food she could even get her hands on. Just as she was about to protest, her stomach growled as well. So much had happened that she neglected eating, and now, she was also hungry. 

She visited the kitchen, hoping there was food she could heat up quickly. Thankfully, she found some leftover lasagna in the fridge, which she microwaved and brought back to the living 

room. 

By then, Carlisle had fallen asleep on the sofa. Even in slumber, Carlisle’s brows were furrowed. He looked troubled and as serious as he was awake but also very tired. His lips were tightly pursed, which helped define its shape. They were beautiful. 

He was a tall man, easily towering over her. But he was also so attractive. How could he be so good–looking? 

His eyelashes were long, with a slight upward curl at the tips. Even if Helene used a curler, she wouldn’t have been able to achieve a similar shape. Sure enough, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t compare to someone who had these 

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features naturally. 

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Driven by curiosity, Helene approached the sleeping man to get a closer look at his long eyelashes. Suddenly, he opened his eyes. 

“Have you seen enough?” 

Helene let out a startled noise and stumbled forward, falling into Carlisle’s arms. His breath, deep and somehow masculine, instantly filled Helene’s senses. 

She panicked and stood up quickly, stammering, “I… I found some lasagna.” 

Carlisle looked at the young woman, shivering like a 

frightened doe, and the corners of his lips raised into a small smile. 

Helene thought that Carlisle was amused at how flustered she was. Perhaps he was trying to keep himself from laughing. Yet, although she was embarrassed, it was rare to see him smile so freely, and she nearly felt tempted by him again. 

Carlisle sat across from Helene and stared at the bowl of lasagna for a few moments. 

“Why aren’t you eating? Didn’t you say you were hungry?” Helene asked. 

“I don’t like tomatoes,” he admitted, though he eventually sunk his fork into the pasta to take a reluctant bite. Soon after, though, he began scraping at the lasagna to get the sauce off. 

That didn’t sit right with Helene, as she disliked picky eaters. 

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“Tomatoes are nutritious!” she urged angrily. “They’re packed with vitamins, and they’re much healthier than taking 

supplements.” 

“I’d rather just take the medicine,” Carlisle said stubbornly. 

Helene watched Carlisle’s movements as he ate, noting how deliberate and gentle he was for his size. Every gesture of his hands was filled with this inexplicable elegance. 

Helene always thought that she was a polite eater, but compared to Carlisle, she felt like they were worlds apart. was as if he was born with nobility and elegance. 

And not only that, but he was precise. Every time Carlisle split up a section of the lasagna, it was always in the same size. Helene wondered how he managed to do that. Perhaps everyone who worked in tech was as meticulous about their food as they were about their work. 

“Do you know the Bamford Group?” Helene suddenly asked. If Carlisle was a programmer, then he would surely know about such a company so renowned in the industry. 

Carlisle tightened his hand around his fork. “What’s wrong?” 

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