A Crazy Wife

Chapter 47 Do You Think You're God?

These three words are like a hand gripping Hannah's heart, and her face suddenly turns white. It is

good that the light shade prevents Chester from seeing Hannah’s complexion.

"Almost died?" She forces herself to calm down, turning slightly, thinking, "Three years in jail is surely

worse than death."

This explanation is quite plausible, and Hannah settles down at once, "I don't want to do this job

anyway."

An “I don't want to do it” blocks most of Chester's questions back.

That is how it is. If she doesn't want to do it, no one can force her to do it. Even though there is still

doubt in his heart, Chester couldn't ask her more.

"After all these Hannah of hard work and learning, don't you think it's a pity to just say you're not going NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

to do it?"

"What about you?” Hannah’s gaze falls on the quilt, "Are you just going to be a civic worker in the

military for the rest of your life? Because people think that's all you can do, so you just do it?"

On hearing this, Chester's face gradually sinks, "Don't ask too much about things you shouldn't ask,

there are things you know too much about, it's not good for you! Not good at all."

His looks are very cold as if they are a cold dagger, and he is gesturing at Hannah's neck. She is

shocked, momentarily speechless.

Chester then put the book on the bedside table and goes to sleep.

He gives out the sound of steady breathing in the room, where there is so quiet as if nothing has just

happened. Hannah is relieved! She has no plan to compose any design any more and goes to bed as

well.

As long as you don't ask Chester about the matter, he is still very easy to talk to most of the time.

Today she deliberately raises this issue because she is curious about something, so she wants to test

his reaction at the risk of annoying him.

The night is dusky and Hannah is comfortable sleeping, so she rolls over, only to froze when the tip of

her nose hit a warm spot.

She sees two slender eyelashes, a thick eyebrow and a straight nose. So she moves back with a taut

face carefully, as if this is known by Chester, he would push himself out of the bed. It is simply thrilling.

After moving backwards to a safe position, Hannah couldn't sleep all of a sudden, checking the face on

her side. She doesn't know how to think of him every day. She thinks about his body when bathing him,

and her heart beats faster. There is a faint smell of soapy water in the air, coming from Chester's body,

inexplicably clean and good-smelling.

He is an old-fashion person, who refuses to even use shower gel, and insists on using an old Chinese

brand of soap, yellow and slightly transparent. It's almost impossible to smell it after washing.

Surrounded by all kinds of perfumes every day, Hannah wants to get rid of all the chemicals that are in

the air, and she can get rid of them when sleeping with Chester. The fragrance is always a pleasure.

Looking closely, Chester's face is extraordinarily tender, and I don't know if it's because of the light, but

even the pores can't be seen, and his hair, which he does not care much, hangs over his head,

covering most of his eyelids.

Hannah couldn't help but reach out her hand and gently gives him a nudge. Her wrist is suddenly

grabbed by a large hand, and Chester quietly opens his eyes, looking at her, not saying a word, as if

waiting for an explanation.

Hannah is so alarmed that her heart misses a beat.

"You... don't misunderstand, I don't mean to do anything to you, I just see that your hair is too long, so I

casually help to comb it." This lame excuse is the truth, but she doesn't believe it herself as she listens,

her face red.

Chester doesn't let go of her hand, staring at her for a moment, suddenly pulling her to his front.

Hannah's face all changes, staring at him with eyes wide open and, even forgetting to resist the

struggle.

That handsome and extraordinary face gradually gets closer, making her pupils contract abruptly, she

pushes him away at once.

After pushing off, she bounces out of bed, hugging the blanket with a wary face, "What are you doing?"

Chester still lies there, his cold eyes looking particularly deep in the late night, and after taking a deep

look at her, he slowly closes his eyes.

"If you don't resist just now, I'll make you sleep next door as usual afterwards."

Hannah's heart tightens, her face flushes rs after she figures out what is going on and said angrily,

"What are you thinking? Am I a nymphomaniac? You think you are God?"

After saying this, she doesn't care what Chester's reaction is, she directly uses the quilt to cover her

head and lies down with her back to Chester, her heart pounding non-stop, as she thinks, “On the one

hand, it is annoying to know that the original owner of my body is in Chester's eyes unethical and

contemptible. On the other hand, it is so annoying to look at Chester who is so self-important and who

looks down on others! What's so great about being handsome?” In the eyes of Hannah, only those who

are handsome but don't know it are considered first-class handsome, Chester is handsome but he

thinks very highly of himself, so he is still a little lame.

With this self-comfort, she is finally unable to bear the sleepiness, drifting off to sleep.

The next day, Rose announces the news of the finalization of the autumn and winter styles at the

department meeting.

"The autumn and winter styles are Heather’s design, which I have looked at, and I have to say they are

very beautiful. It should be like this, less talk and more work. To have designs that are presentable

that's the main thing."

The printouts are distributed to the participants' hands. Hannah, as the little assistant, originally had

nothing to do with this, but Rose seems to be in a good mood so the designers and assistants are also

given one for reference, a behaviour that contradicts Rose’s usual strictness.

Hannah turns the drawing over in her hand and asks hesitantly, "Is this all designs by Heather alone?"

Everyone looks up with different expressions.

In the same department, everyone knew what level they are at with each other, and it is strange to

come up with such a high level of work this night. Not in the minority.

"Of course I design it," Heather explains sharply, glaring at Hannah, "You couldn't have designed it"

Hannah is a newcomer, so she swallows her grievances.

It's not Heather's design skills that she's questioning. It's just that these sketches, are not the same as

Heather's, but similar to the one she saw yesterday morning in the corridor.

And those works are clearly signed by a man named Gordan.