My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Chapter 173 I Know Your Secret

“You’re not blind, though. It’s your legs that hurt,” Armand reasoned as he glanced at the woman on the bed. “Besides, you’re reading the book for your own good, not mine.”

Genevieve got so furious at Armand’s bluntness that she threw the finance book at him and buried herself under the blanket.

Feeling helpless, Armand merely caught the book and rubbed his temples.

Upon settling the rest of his emails, he promptly closed his laptop and climbed into bed. “Come out. I’ll read the book with you,” he whispered as he pulled the bundled-up Genevieve into his arms.

The blanket was thin and cooling, perfect for the hot summer days.

Because of that, Genevieve could feel herself leaning against a firm, broad chest. After dawdling for a while, she finally stuck her head out of the blanket.

To her surprise, Armand had already opened the book and flipped to the page she bookmarked.

Seeing her head sticking out, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Genevieve, I realize you’re becoming brattier.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes as she texted: That’s just how I am. You have to accept it whether you like it or not!

Rachford family, she was her parents’ most precious treasure. They doted on her and spoiled her with everything she ever wanted. Thus, it was no surprise that she grew up to be

no one pampered her anymore. On top of that, her relationship with Armand back

had lived in fear every day, afraid that he might one day stop helping her. As such, she was always careful around him,

on

position and lay in Armand’s arms. As she held his

read, the more she thought about the words she had told Armand the night

further ado, Genevieve turned around and stared at Armand as she ran

in her wildest dreams did she imagine that they would meet again after fourteen

then, she had only regarded the older boy as her only audience. Because of his encouragement, she had poured her heart and soul into practicing the violin. There were no other emotions attached to their interaction, to the point where she

same boy had now become the man

the balcony railing, looking so refined for someone who had yet to step into young adulthood. Even his voice had a touch

disappeared, but he had also blossomed into

face has changed so drastically that I couldn’t

told you to read the book, not look at

face as she typed on her

ago and practiced her violin. However, the