You Make Money, I'll Spend It: Stepmother's Ultimate Pleasure in the Aristocratic Family

Chapter 93

How do I prove it?

Sheng Mumu could not help but think crooked.

Her eyes, moist like water, blinked and looked helpless and pitiable.

Seeing her fair cheeks slightly flushed, Qi Mo's expression softened a little, and his dark eyes showed a trace of laughter.

The afterglow of the setting sun slowly spilled in from the floor-to-ceiling window outside.

The man's exquisite and elegant side face was covered with a layer of warm light, so handsome that people could not move their eyes away.

The deep eyes that hid the smile looked at her steadily.

The beam was warm, and Sheng Mumu also felt her cheeks warmed up.

Thump-thump—

A soft place on the left side of the chest suddenly accelerated and jumped a few times.

Her heart was like being grabbed by a pair of invisible hands, and her breathing became slower.

She was stunned.

Sheng Mumu, Sheng Mumu.

What are you doing, lost your mind because of desire, and fell for a man?

The man opposite you is your sugar daddy.

Even if you fall for him, it can only be filial piety.

Anything else, you shouldn't even think about it!

She quickly averted her gaze, pressed her palm against the man's firm chest, and gently pushed.

The man's body paused slightly.

Through the thin fabric, he felt that the pair of fair and delicate hands pressed against his chest were a little hot.

His eyes became deep and gloomy, and his adam's apple rolled slightly.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Sheng Mumu dodged sideways.

Pulling the corners of her lips, she used an awkward smile to cover up her uneasiness.

"Ahaha, Chairman Qi, you are very humorous. Don't be so humorous next time."

After saying that, she almost fled the bedroom like her life depended on it.

Only when she reached a place where she was out of sight of that scorching gaze, did her heart begin to boil silently.

Damn, what's wrong with this man!

Many times, the way he looked at her was like looking at...prey.

Could it be that he wants to make the fake become real?

That's another...

matter.

In the bedroom.

Qi Mo slowly straightened up, his eyes falling on the door where she had fled in panic.

Closing his eyes, a muffled laugh came from his chest.

The flat shirt on his chest, where she had touched it, wrinkled slightly.

The place wrapped in the shirt also produced wrinkles...

Like a drop of colored paint falling into the calm lake, ripples spread out.

Even after the ripples disappeared.

It was no longer the still clear water it used to be.

After that day, a subtle change took place in the relationship between the two.

Details she had never noticed before.

Floated to the surface one by one.

This feeling appeared suddenly one morning.

At that time, she was half asleep.

She vaguely felt the man next to her get up.

In a daze, she opened her eyes a slit.

In the dim light.

The man stood at the end of the bed, his back tall and straight.

He leaned forward and picked up the end of the quilt that had fallen to the carpet.

Covered her again properly.

The man's figure gradually approached, and she quickly closed her eyes.

Then, she felt a gentle force under her neck, and the edge of the quilt was tucked in carefully.

Her long eyelashes fluttered lightly, breathing evenly, trying not to let him find out that she was awake.

Not until the man went into the bathroom, and the sound of trickling water could be heard.

Then he went to the walk-in closet.

The sound of clothes hangers being flipped and collided, the light buckling sound of the belt, and the sound of opening the watch drawer.

Although they were all very faint sounds.

But it kept her thoughts running wild, unable to fall asleep.

Not until she was sure Qi Mo had gone to the company.

She suddenly opened her eyes and sat up.

Carefully recalled, and suddenly realized.

When Qi Mo was on a business trip, she would wake up in the morning with the quilt fallen to the ground.

But as long as he was at home, she would wake up with the quilt still on her.

So it turned out... it was because he was silently tucking in the quilt.

The second time she had this subtle feeling was one day when the family went to Feng Yaoqin's house for dinner.

It was drizzling outside.

Not heavy, but the raindrops were blown by the wind, fluttering. It was very annoying.

Qi Shaobai was too lazy to use an umbrella. He put up the hood of his hoodie, put his hands in his pockets, and jogged ahead.

Qi Mo took a long-handled umbrella from the butler Zhang, opened it.

He moved his arm towards her, his gaze lingering and gentle, hinting for her to hold on.

The umbrella isolated the two in a small space.

Not a drop of rain leaked into her side.

While his shoulders were soaked.

The expensive and delicate shirt stuck to his smooth and well-shaped arms.

She was momentarily lost in thought.

When they arrived at her mother-in-law's house.

Feng Yaoqin was preparing to wrap dumplings.

Qi Shaobai knew he would mess things up if he tried to help, so he sat on the sofa playing with his phone very sensibly, waiting for dinner to be served.

Sheng Mumu tied up her long hair with a hair tie, washed her hands, and went into the kitchen to help.

Qi Mo was already inside with his sleeves rolled up a little, holding a large glass bowl filled with meat filling, and mixing it.

While chatting with her mother-in-law, Sheng Mumu casually took an apron and put it around her neck.

She tied the waist straps behind her back with one hand.

Qi Mo's gaze followed her movements and looked over. He put down the bowl in his hand, walked naturally behind her.

Without saying a word, he took the ends of the straps from her hands and tied them unhurriedly.

The man's slender and well-proportioned fingers inadvertently brushed across her lower back.

At the back of her neck, she could feel the faint breath.

Feeling the straps being tightened, his low and magnetic voice came from behind.

"It's tied."

At dinnertime.

Qi Mo's phone on the table lit up.

His hands were peeling shrimp, he glanced at the phone with his eyes, then turned to look at her.

His tone was casual and natural:

"Help me see who sent the message."

Sheng Mumu was stunned for a moment, slid open the screen, and tapped into WeChat.

The chat list was very Qi Mo-esque.

The friend nicknames were all in the format of full name + note.

The suffixes were sometimes company names, sometimes departments.

Even Qi Shaobai and Feng Yaoqin were coldly noted with their names.

Only the pinned conversation at the top was different from others.

The words "My Wife" were particularly conspicuous.

There was even a small sun emoji embellishment.

Sheng Mumu's eyes paused for a moment.

It was hard to imagine the scene of the silent and majestic man editing her WeChat nickname.

She pretended not to notice, tapped into the work group.

On the screen was the branch manager reporting project progress, a string of professional terminology and data, the information was very long, like a short essay.

However, Qi Mo just glanced at it casually, his eyes stayed for less than three seconds.

Then he retracted his gaze and said in a deep voice:

"That's enough."

After turning off his phone for him, Sheng Mumu was absent-minded for the rest of dinner.

Why did Qi Mo pin their conversation?

After all, most of the messages she sent him were meaningless nonsense.

Why did he clearly not care much about the group message just now, yet still wanted her to open his phone for him, and also glance at it during dinner?

Was he deliberately letting her see it?

She was no fool, she couldn't help but guess this.

She secretly glanced at the cause of her complicated feelings with the corner of her eye, and her eyes tightened inexplicably.

At this moment, the aura of that man, who was always cold and aloof, was on the verge of a smile.

Revealing a kind of restrained and pure delight.

She felt her chest shudder on the left.

His actions were careful and meticulous.

Hard to notice without deliberate observation.

It seemed like trying it out, yet also natural.

As if afraid she would know, yet afraid she wouldn't know.

On the blurred boundary line of their "contract marriage", he went close but did not cross.

Inching closer, plotting.

A little by little, seeping into her life.

Sheng Mumu asked herself.

If there was any change taking place between her and Qi Mo.

She really couldn't produce conclusive evidence.

But to say things were still the same as before.

That would be deceiving herself.

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