บททั้งหมดของ Warm My Bed, Little Pumpkin!: บทที่ 161 - บทที่ 170

THE night draw nigh. Queen stirred awake, her body heavy and sluggish, as if she had been trapped in a deep abyss of sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, and she squinted at the dim light filtering through the curtains of her lavish bedroom. The sleek design of her room, a blend of muted grays and golds, greeted her as she groggily reached for her phone on the bedside table.The screen illuminated her face as she tapped it on. Her heart sank and her eyes widened. "Evening?" she gasped, seeing the time. "It is already this late?" She asked rhetorically.Queen shot upright, her silk nightgown crumpled from hours of restless sleep after a long series of online meetings earlier that day. Her fingers instinctively navigated to her call log. She scrolled down, her sharp blue nails clicking against the screen, searching for one name: Oswald.There it was, her last outgoing call to him that morning, an argument. She had been waiting for his call that morning, and when it didn't come, she had call

OSWALD leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes as the late-night fatigue settled in. The office was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. After that disturbing and disrupting call from his mother, he had been at his desk for hours, finalizing contracts and answering emails, his mind a blur of business numbers and strategy. The constant pressure of being the head of one of the country's most powerful empires weighed heavily on him, but it was a weight he had learned to carry. As you know, Oswald had long ago given up on the idea of rest. His life was about work, endless work, and that was all he needed. Just as he was about to close up for the night, David, his ever-diligent assistant, entered the office. "Mr. Dino, there is an impromptu meeting scheduled at one of the restaurants in town," David said, his voice polite but laced with urgency. "It is regarding the Eastside project. They have been waiting for

ORLANDA lay in the dimly lit room that had become her prison, the cold stone walls pressing in on her. The room felt suffocating, a constant reminder of her situation. She had finished the breakfast that she found beside her hours ago, and her stomach had churned a thousand times, reminding her it hadn't had anything else since the morning. Lunch and dinner, she hadn't had. As she sat there in the dark, memories begin flashing back to the world she had left behind. Her family, her friends. Did they ever cared to ask about her? Or even attempt to find her? How Oswald had even had her trapped in here for months, doing whatever he pleased with her was something she still couldn't fathom. She sighed as her stomach churned again.The sound of jazz music floated down the hall, faint at first, but gradually growing louder. It was so out of place here in this cold, sterile part of the mansion. Orlanda furrowed her brow, trying to focus her thoughts. Who the hell was playing music at this hour

QUEEN stood frozen in the middle of the grand living room, her perfectly manicured fingers clenching into fists at her sides. Her heart pounded with a mix of disbelief and frustration as Oswald's cold words replayed in her mind. "You are not sleeping in my room tonight, or any other night. You are sleeping in the guest room, the one you have already settled in."Guest room? Guest room?Her face burned with humiliation. How dare he? How could he dismiss her so easily, like she was just some random person who showed up uninvited? She had expected resistance, yes, but this-this level of indifference, was beyond what she had ever imagined. The sound of his door clicking shut sent a fresh wave of anger surging through her. That was it? Just like that? He didn't even argue, didn't even give her the satisfaction of a fight. He was done with the conversation, and that was the end of it. She let out a frustrated sigh, pacing the length of the living room in her fluffy slippers. The echo of

THE dim light from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow over the room, flickering slightly as the air grew still. Orlanda sat quietly in her little space, her mind still replaying the cold conversation she had just had with Oswald. His words had been sharp, dismissive, yet strangely... intriguing. After a while, she noticed something, he had dozed off. The almighty Oswald had dozed off.His broad frame sat relaxed against the chair, his head tilted slightly to the side. His breathing was steady, calm, as if the weight of the world had finally loosened its grip on him, even if just for a moment. Orlanda hesitated before getting up, stepping carefully towards him. She stood before him, watching him. His handsome face, which was usually so hardened with authority, looked different in sleep. Softer. The sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones were still prominent, but there was an ease to his features that she had never seen before. The tension that always seemed to cling to him like a shad