My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Chapter 172 You Are Inhuman

It was past three o’clock in the afternoon when Genevieve finally woke up.

Without much memory of what had happened during the wee hours of the morning, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stumbled out of bed. However, as soon as her feet touched the carpet, the soreness between her legs almost caused her to topple over.

She barely held onto the bed for support, but thankfully, that was enough to keep herself from falling.

The next second, Genevieve grabbed her phone from the bedside table and texted the man who had long since left the bedroom: Armand Faulkner, you’re inhuman!

Shortly after she sent her message, the door suddenly opened.

Even though Armand seemed cold and aloof as he walked in wearing a buttoned-up white shirt and black pants, there was no doubt that his face wore a look of contentment.

Upon seeing a grim-faced Genevieve leaning against the bed, Armand smiled. Without further ado, he lifted her wordlessly in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.

Genevieve, on the other hand, angrily typed out another message: You’re inhuman! You’re a sc*mbag! You’re an animal!”

who flirted with me,” Armand said

she had flinched at the cold

once! Couldn’t you have pushed

of meat dangling in front of it?” Armand asked with a chuckle. After squeezing toothpaste out onto a toothbrush and sticking it into Genevieve’s mouth, he added, “Brush your

she bit down on the toothbrush, Genevieve lifted her

of Armand. Once that was all done, he carried her back out and

had been padded

restaurant’s menu, Genevieve had just applied face toner, but her expression remained cold and gloomy as

to cancel the flight tickets,” Armand remarked. While putting the menu on the dressing table, he inadvertently caught a glimpse

goodness, her skin’s too tender. I didn’t even use that much force,

her earlobe and said in a low voice, “Once you’re feeling better,

about taking your private plane? I’ll have you know I’m fit as a

bring herself to elaborate

perform as well once they’re in their thirties? She suddenly stopped typing as memories of the terrifying experience came flooding back. Before long, she was back on her phone again: Did

read the text on her memo, his face