The Wrong Woman
The wrong Woman novel by Ginny Not Genie Chapter 447

Mila settled across from him, her smile vanishing in an instant. "Am I not welcome?"

Nathan replied, "You know that's not what I mean."

Resting her chin on her hands, Mila gazed at his solemn expression, her words slow and deliberate. "I wanted to see you."

Nathan was taken aback by her words. His heart pounded inexplicably as a sudden tension gripped him.

Why did she want to see him? Was it for some specific request? Or perhaps out of longing?

Feeling a dryness in his throat, Nathan swallowed hard and took a sip of the pumpkin soup, trying to calm the turmoil in his heart.

Yet, the soup seemed sickly sweet, matching the unease swirling within him.

After finishing, Nathan carefully set the bowl down. "Chubs, if you have something on your mind, just speak up. Such ambiguous words can cause misunderstandings.”

Mila pondered for a long while, realizing that stealing was neither feasible nor sensible. So, she had to resort to asking.

As Nathan waited for her response, Mila appeared to be in turmoil.

He briefly glanced at his phone screen to check if he had missed any crucial messages.

Underneath the table, Mila nervously dug her nails into her palm, her heart racing like that of a startled deer. Before she could speak, her cheeks were already burning with embarrassment.

“Nate, could you join me in bed?"

Her words lingered in the air, hanging heavily between them.

With a loud thud, Nathan's phone slipped from his grasp and crashed to the floor, startling them both.

Mila peeked over, her eyes wide with surprise. Nathan hastily bent down, swiftly retrieving his phone.

He first placed it on the table, then the next moment, he pocketed it, his actions somewhat erratic. He was genuinely taken aback by her bold proposition.

As Mila approached him, Nathan stood up from his chair, his mouth dry as he cleared his throat. His tone was somewhat sharp. "Chubs, I've already made myself clear before. With your intelligence, you shouldn't have trouble understanding my intentions, right?"

Mila's cheeks blazed crimson, her demeanor a blend of resignation and sorrow. "I know your concerns. You fear that I will get married after my return to Sunterland, and you wish to protect my innocence.”

“If you understand, then stop thinking about that,” Nathan responded, a heat spreading through his chest. He loosened his tie, unbuttoning his shirt collar before turning away from Mila. He then strode purposefully toward the living room.

Mila trailed closely behind, her facade one of audacity as she spoke, “I don't even care about it myself. Why do you concern so much with these matters?"

Reaching the bar counter, Nathan poured himself a glass of cold water and downed it in one gulp.

Setting the glass down, he turned to face Mila. "You're someone who could leave at any moment. What exactly do you want?"

Mila approached him, looking up at him with determination. "Nate, I simply wish to share a night with you. No, perhaps two or three."

She wanted to bear his child. It was a risky wager—a bet on Sunterland's generosity.

Nathan stood with his hands on his waist and took a deep breath. Just hearing Mila's words made him feel feverish all over. Such bold and blatant seduction was something he couldn't resist.

“You're out of your mind, Chubs," Nathan said. He then grabbed her arm and led her toward the door. "I'l send you home."

“I'm not leaving, Nate," Mila protested, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, refusing to let go.

Nathan couldn't push her away, and neither did he dare to use force. He worried that he might hurt her.

Nathan's throat tightened as he peered down at Mila. His voice became husky and soft as he pleaded, "Chubs, please, don't be stubborn.”

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