The two returned to the Imperial Apartment, where Vanessa was reading a magazine in the living room. Hearing the door open, she turned her head to look.

Upon seeing the pair enter together, the somber atmosphere that had hung between them for the past few days had dissipated, replaced now by a sense of ease and comfort.

She frowned, puzzled by what could have happened in the course of a day to bring about such a dramatic change in their relationship. A sense of crisis suddenly surged in her heart.

Noticing the pair changing their shoes, Vanessa’s sharp eyes caught sight of the paper bag in Theodore’s hand. She leaned over the back of the sofa and asked, “Theodore, what did you buy?” “Cupcakes, made by Phoebe,” Theodore replied, his expression unreadable.

Vanessa saw them come back together and understood without a doubt that it must have been Phoebe who dragged Theodore to make cupcakes. A sour feeling welled up inside her; no wonder he hadn’t replied to her calls or messages. He had been busy making cupcakes.

How playful of them!

She felt upset inside, but her face didn’t show it. As Theodore approached with the paper bag, she reached out her hand, “I haven’t eaten much tonight; I’ll have a cupcake.”

Theodore pursed his lips, glanced at Phoebe, and then handed the paper bag to Vanessa.

Phoebe caught this out of the corner of her eye, and her heart sank.

After changing her shoes, without a glance at them, she headed straight to the kitchen.

She took two packets of medicine out of the fridge and put them in the microwave for a minute, staring at the warm yellow light inside, lost in thought.

Although she hadn’t explicitly said that the cupcakes weren’t to be shared with others, the fact that Theodore had given them to Vanessa upon returning still made her feel uncomfortable. Her heart, which had just softened, was now wrapped in ice again.

Indeed, a man’s words couldn’t be trusted.

After taking her medicine, Phoebe went out and saw Vanessa eating a second cupcake. Her face grew utterly cold.

She slapped the medicine in front of Theodore and then sat down on a single-seat sofa.

“Miss Fitzroy, I saw you washing your hair this morning. Is your hand not hurting anymore?”

Vanessa, caught off guard, almost choked on the cupcake in her mouth. She glanced at Theodore, “I… my hand still hurts.” Phoebe sneered inwardly. There was a saying that went, ‘It’s easy to invite a god but hard to send one away.’ It couldn’t be truer. Was Vanessa planning to use her hand injury as an excuse to stay here forever?

Did she have no shame?

“Oh, that’s not good at all. I’ll call the doctor to come and look at it. After all, it’s a pianist’s hand; it’s so precious, we can’t just neglect it,” Phoebe said and then picked up her phone to call the doctor. Vanessa didn’t even have time to object. She glared at Phoebe, who was feigning concern, her heart bleeding with hatred as she muttered, “Miss Ziegler, you’re really concerned about me.”

“Of course, no matter what, you are my artist, and I have to take responsibility for you,” Phoebe said after hanging up the phone. “The doctor will be here in half an hour. I’m going to take a shower.” Vanessa watched her back disappear down the corridor, grinding her teeth with visceral hatred.

“Theodore, I…”

“Phoebe is right; let’s have the doctor take a look at you,” Theodore interrupted her, standing up as well. “I’m going to change my clothes.”

As soon as Theodore left, Vanessa’s face darkened. She looked at the cupcakes in front of her, wishing she could crush them to bits.

Phoebe, that wretched woman, she had underestimated her ability to seduce men.

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