My One-month Marriage With Mr. Hawkins

Silence blanketed the cabin. Except for two expressionless bodyguards sitting there like the background board, only Stanford and Phoebe were left there.

Stanford pressed his thin lips, looking at Phoebe with a complicated expression.

He frowned in regret and his mind was messy. He had heard what Addison complained just now.

He wondered if it was because he failed to coax Phoebe so he felt so irritated and angry right now.

Was it because of her?

Stanford shook his head in disbelief. He denied it. He wouldn’t ever become like this because of a woman.

He was sure that Addison was bullshitting because he was unhappy.

Stanford gritted his teeth, unwilling to insist on thinking about this topic. He directly looked away.

The cabin became completely quiet.

Phoebe was looked out of the window, and Stanford was staring at his tablet.

They didn’t interact with each other at all as if they were strangers sitting in the same cabin, and they would part after getting off the jet and not meet again.

Phoebe looked out of the window in silence, feeling sadder, bitterer, and lonelier.

She also realized more clearly that after they got off the jet and she met Florence, the last moment of goodbye would come.

No matter how many feelings she was feeling, there wouldn’t be any chance at all.

She felt helpless, and she felt more futile.

Stanford operated on his tablet, working on something that would gape Addison.

After twenty minutes, a helicopter flew over, flying in parallel with the private jet at the same speed.

Later, after they communicated with each other, the hatch doors were opened at the same time.

Feeling the wind flown into the cabin, Phoebe raised her head in confusion.

In a surprise, she saw Addison standing at the hatch door, pulling a rope.

She wondered what they were doing.

In confusion. Phoebe peered out of the window.

were two ropes, on which a casserole was

ropes were pulled, the casserole was

unreliable conjecture

other helicopter delivering the tonic soup to

way too... luxurious, wasn’t

could be so imaginative to figure out

obtained safely. The hatch door was

on which there was a bowl of soup,

the soup in front of Phoebe and said, “Miss Jenkins, please drink the soup

Phoebe couldn’t believe

soup was

bowl of tonic soup that was

said gratefully, “Thank

a smile, “I didn’t come up with the idea. Mr. Fraser arranged it in person. Miss Jenkins, if

a smile, Addison cast a glance at Stanford meaningfully and walked forward

tried his best not to be the third

Mr. Fraser had finally become smart. He could even think of delivering

care, Addison

a master looks like a fool. When he truly cared about

words, Phoebe suddenly felt the soup bowl in her hands was too hot for her to

know that the

it was Stanford who personally arranged such an

twinkling. She looked at him with

wanted to ask something but didn’t. He felt

“I have a lot of helicopters. It’s just a piece

the door

that Mr.

just a piece of cake? At least, Addison had never seen Stanford use a helicopter to deliver the tonic soup to another person, not to mention that the soup was hurriedly taken out from the tonic soup restaurant

hearing his words, Phoebe’s sparkling eyes

was just a piece of cake for Stanford as long as he gave a command. How could she insist on feeling

was so pathetic

the soup bowl tightly,

head and slowly drank

she didn’t taste anything except

the private jet had arrived at the

After getting off the jet, she couldn’t wait to see

there were several villas in front of her, all surrounded by bodyguards. Obviously,

asked, “Which villa is

you the