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1415 Words
“Your delivery has arrived. Enjoy your meal.”
The delivery guy tossed the pizza onto the ground along with Grace and sped off on his motorbike, not daring to look back, afraid he might accidentally uncover some dark secrets of the wealthy and be silenced.
**Quill Manor** was a private estate, normally not open to outsiders, with only a few gatekeepers. But today was different. Grace quickly scanned the area and spotted four or five bodyguards in suits, their arms thicker than her legs, patrolling the grounds.
Ethan had indeed returned.
This meant that Grace’s carefree life over the past six months had officially come to an end today.
A chilly early autumn breeze blew past, rustling the fallen leaves that hadn’t yet been swept up.
Grace squatted down by a tree, using the wind as an excuse to dig into her hot pizza.
After filling herself up, she burped contentedly and threw the trash into the nearest bin. She then stood outside for another hour, using her phone’s camera to check her reflection, making sure she looked pale enough to resemble a person who had been dead for three days. Only then did she step inside.
The brightly lit hall greeted her as soon as she entered. Martha immediately spotted her.
“Oh dear, ma’am, why are you just now getting back? Look at your poor face, it’s frozen pale.”
Martha threw a blanket over her and whispered, “Sir is having dinner now.”
“And, about Little Flower… Mr. Quill found out. But since she just gave birth to piglets, he didn’t have her thrown out.”
Grace was shocked.
When did Ethan start speaking human language!?
“He said you should ride her away.”
The jerk really never disappoints...
The aroma of lamb chops, more tender than usual, wafted through the air even before Grace got close to the dining room.
“Ethan, I’m back...”
Even wrapped in a blanket, the girl was still shivering in her thin dress, her exposed legs pale and straight.
Ethan glanced at her briefly before focusing back on his lamb chops.
Martha, feeling a bit bad, added, “Sir, ma’am rushed straight to the hospital as soon as she heard you went there.”
Ethan nodded.
Indeed, she rushed over to hear his last words.
Encouraged by his response, Martha continued, “She hasn’t eaten all day, and after being out in the cold wind, her body probably can’t take it.”
Hearing this, Ethan glanced again at Grace, who was trembling beside him, and nodded once more.
He had no interest in mistreating women. Just as he was about to motion for her to sit opposite him—
A loud shout erupted from outside, “Which jerk threw a pizza box into my compost bin!?”
Grace flinched.
**[Wait, that wasn’t a trash can!?]**
Ethan silently withdrew his hand, looking at Grace with a meaningful gaze.
The elderly gardener stomped into the room, fuming, but as soon as he saw Ethan sitting at the table, his legs nearly gave out.
“S-Sir...”
He had just finished his work and normally wouldn’t come to the main house, but today he was too furious and wanted to complain to Martha. He hadn’t expected Mr. Quill, who hadn’t been seen for half a year, to be back.
Catching sight of Grace, the old man realized it must be another case of the ma’am trying to warm her face by Mr. Quill’s cold shoulder.
“Hurry up and leave,” Martha scolded.
The old man scurried off immediately.
Martha, with a sincere tone, apologized, “I didn’t manage the servants well. Please don’t be angry, sir.”
The brief interruption had sapped Ethan’s appetite.
He stood up and walked over to Grace.
His fitted waistcoat outlined his toned figure, broad shoulders tapering down to a slim waist, complemented by his long legs.
It was a physique any man would drool over.
The sudden closeness of his masculine presence made Grace shiver involuntarily. A flush crept over her pale cheeks as she lowered her head, her lashes trembling, too shy to meet his gaze.
Her eyes darted toward his long, straight legs.
**[Judging by those legs, he’s definitely not wearing thermal pants.]**
**[When you’re old and frail, I’ll push your wheelchair and make you watch as I waltz with handsome men.]**
Ethan’s gaze followed hers, landing on her bare, pale legs.
How could she have the nerve to criticize him?
Sensing his stare, Grace subtly pulled her legs back.
**[Did he notice I’m wearing thermal leggings under this? No way, this dress isn’t see-through...]**
Ethan: “...”
His amber eyes, clear and devoid of any impurities, quietly studied her, laced with a hint of confusion.
Martha exchanged a glance with Warren.
This didn’t make sense. They had been married for two years, and yet today, Mr. Quill had not only asked about his wife but was now standing here, staring at her.
Could this be the start of love after marriage?
In front of everyone, Grace suddenly looked up, tears welling in her cat-like eyes, making her appear pitifully sad.
“Sir, please don’t be mad. Uriel didn’t mean it.”
“Is your cough getting better? Are you still feeling unwell?”
“Don’t worry, as long as you need it, Grace is willing to give you her heart and soul!”
**[One heart costs hundreds of thousands, and another one costs hundreds of thousands.]**
“Sir, why are you leaving? You just got back!” Martha called out, watching Ethan’s clean, sharp figure turn and leave without hesitation.
Warren stepped in to explain, “Sir won’t be staying here tonight.”
From where they couldn’t see, a sly smile appeared on Grace’s face.
**[Ethan, Ethan, looks like I’ve still got the upper hand.]**
Ethan’s footsteps paused for a moment, but he didn’t turn back.
After leaving the main house, he finally spoke.
“Find me a psychologist. As soon as possible.”
Warren was shocked. Did Mr. Quill realize he was falling for his wife but couldn’t accept it, so he was blaming it on a psychological problem?
“Of course, sir. But... weren’t you back here because of young master?”
Ethan shot him a cold glance.
The nearly two-meter-tall muscle-bound bodyguard immediately began sweating.
“I spoke out of turn.”
...
After sending Ethan off, Martha went back inside. Grace, feeling weak, slowly made her way to a chair at the dining table and collapsed into it.
For some reason, as soon as Ethan was out of sight, her entire body began to ache.
Could it be that because she didn’t beg him tearfully to stay, the system was punishing her for being out of character (OOC)?
As she was thinking this, a timid voice suddenly sounded in her mind.
**[Hello, can you hear me...?]**
Grace’s skin crawled, but she had no energy left, not even to lift a finger:
**[Who are you?]**
Such a soft, cute voice definitely wasn’t from that cursed "OOC Zero Tolerance" system.
The voice seemed to relax slightly and continued:
**[Hello, I’m the "Prevent You From Dying in the Womb" system.]**
Grace: **[...Did you come to the wrong place? That’s not how the plot goes here.]**
**[It’s not literally about dying in the womb...]** The system weakly defended itself.
**[Here’s the thing, the world you’re in is from a novel called *The CEO and His Delicate Heiress Wife, Sweet to the Max!*]**
**[Because of a breach in the world’s barrier, many transmigrators have targeted this world. They’re trying to change the plot and break up the male and female lead. We need you to protect the story and help the main couple get together, preventing the transmigrators’ schemes from ruining everything.]**
Grace let out a surprised “Oh” and then, without thinking, responded:
**[No thanks.]**
The system quietly added:
**[If you don’t help, you’ll die. Without my protection, the ‘OOC Zero Tolerance’ system will make sure you die alongside Ethan when he kicks the bucket.]**
That did sound like something the male-lead-obsessed system would do...
**[Fine. Where’s the male lead then? I’ll force him to marry the female lead right now.]**
The system was overjoyed, not expecting such an easy victory:
**[He’s already here~]**
Just as the words faded, a ridiculously brash voice came from outside.
“Take this punch! How dare you say there’s no Altman in this world!!”
- Writer
