His Real Wedded Bride

Chapter 1238 Cut His Finger

"Seriously? Are you kidding me? You're nothing but a gold digger. Just admit that you married Charles

for his money and power. You've never been good enough to be a part of our family and you never will

be." Melissa raised her voice, wearing a stern face.

"I know you think that I don't deserve your son. So, tell me. Who do you think is good enough for him?"

Sheryl inquired calmly.

"Leila would be a good wife for Charles. Now that you know, what now? Are you going to divorce my

son?" replied Melissa with a sarcastic smile on her lips.

The joke made Sheryl chuckle. "Mom, Charles and I are a solid pair. Even if we're enemies, I'll be his

wife. You have to accept that I'm your daughter-in-law whether or not you want to," she said.

"How…how dare you!" Melissa trembled with anger. Pointing at the woman in front of her who looked

too perky for her liking, Melissa snapped, "Is this how you talk to your husband's mother? Where are

your manners? Unlike you, Leila is sensible and well-bred..."

Abruptly interrupting her, Sheryl retorted, "Of course, I'm sure you're much better-bred than I am.

Otherwise, how could you tell me you're going to get your son a mistress? Truly, I have so much to

learn from you." The fake smile on Sheryl's face was taunting.

Upon hearing the sarcastic remark, Melissa glowered at the woman. The older lady was so furious that

her eyes almost popped out.

This time, Sheryl really pushed her buttons. During her stay in prison, she had suffered immensely. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Although she had been free for a while, the inferiority she experienced still haunted her—she had a

criminal record, after all.

The arrogance and pride she always exuded were a means to protect herself. Now that Sheryl had

stamped all over her facade, she felt humiliated.

Blazing fury smoldered within her heart. Glaring at her daughter-in-law with ferocious eyes, she wished

she could pounce on the woman and strangle her.

'It's all this bitch's fault. Because of her, I can never get a break. She's the reason why Charles drifted

away from me. This cursed woman not only stole my son away from me, but she dared to insult me!"

Melissa was seething.

Eventually, the furious look on Melissa's face was replaced with a twisted smile, only making her look

more dangerous. Pointing at Sheryl with a hand trembling with anger, she gravely said, "You're really

good, Sheryl Xia. But this isn't over. Just wait and see."

Sheryl's expression didn't even budge. Putting on an innocent look, she said, "Mom, I've done nothing

to you, so don't be angry. It's bad for your health."

Her voice was so soft and gentle that it could convince anyone else but Charles' mother that she was

sincere.

It was at this point that Melissa realized what a horrible person Sheryl was.

'As it turns out, the old saying is right—appearances can be deceiving.

I underestimated her. Given the fact that she's not from a rich or influential family, I insulted her. I did all

I could to get her to leave Charles. I never thought she would ever fight back, or that Charles would

ever get angry at me because of her.

After living with her all this time I see, now, that Sheryl is a wolf in sheep's clothing. She's good at

pretending to be obedient and kind but in reality, she's craft and evil. I have to be careful," she brooded.

Slowly, Melissa regained her composure.

"If there isn't anything else, I'm going upstairs. Goodnight, Mom!" As if the two hadn't just had an

argument, Sheryl threw a breezy smile at her mother-in-law.

With a grim face, Melissa refrained from responding. As she watched as Sheryl's figure disappeared

upstairs, a crooked smile replaced her icy expression.

The following morning, Cassie woke up to the sound of something sizzling outside the room.

The second she surveyed the room, what happened the previous night started coming back to her.

As it turned out, all that happened last night was true. As the fact that she was still in Nick's house

dawned on her, Cassie drew a contented smile.

Yanking the blanket off, she got up from the bed and walked up to the door where a delicious smell

filled her nose.

Something good was being cooked.

For someone who hadn't had breakfast yet, the smell was irresistibly tempting.

It made Cassie's stomach growl.

When she stepped out of the bedroom, she followed her nose to the kitchen where she assumed Nick

was preparing breakfast.

Her heart skipped a beat. Eager to see Nick cooking, she made her way to the kitchen excitedly.

Standing by the counter, Nick had ingredients laid out as he made some delicious soup.

It had been a long time since he cooked for himself, so his skills had gotten a bit rusty. The dish was

supposed to be tomato noodle soup with pork ribs and eggs, but it was a challenge.

Suddenly, he recalled the days he spent in the orphanage. Back then, he led a tough life where he

couldn't really enjoy proper food. There was a time when he swore to himself that he would cook

delicious food for himself when he finally lived a comfortable life. When he got a job, though, he seldom

made time to cook for himself even when he knew how to cook. Usually, he just ordered take-out to

make things more convenient for himself.

As he got immersed in his own thoughts, his hand carelessly slipped and sliced his own finger with the

kitchen knife.

"Ah!" he groaned from the pain. Looking down at his hand, he saw a big cut across his left index finger

where blood started to drip from.

Hurriedly, he dropped the knife. As he was about to press down on the cut with his other hand,

someone made him turn around.

"What's wrong? Did you get hurt? Let me have a look!"

A familiar, anxious voice reached his ears. Looking up, Nick saw Cassie's worried expression as she

held his hand and examined the cut closely.

Feeling uneasy, he attempted to withdraw his hand from hers.

"Stay still!" she seriously said as her grip on his hand tightened. "I need to disinfect your cut or it will

fester."

Casting a glance at the soup brewing on the stove, Nick began to say he would take care of the cut

later when Cassie turned down the heat and pulled him into the living room. "Where is the first-aid box,

Nick?" she hastily asked.

Although Nick wanted to tell her that the cut wasn't a big deal at all, the worried look on her face made

him swallow his words. Instead of refusing her help, he pointed to where the kit was.

In a blink, Cassie had the first-aid kit ready. Wasting no time, she brought out the medicinal alcohol and

cotton to disinfect the wound before carefully covering Nick's injured finger.

After taking care of his cut, Cassie put the first-aid kit back and urged, "Try not to get this wet for a

while. You don't want to get the cut infected…"