Chapter 0292

When Martha turned, Ingrid immediately put on a smile.

“Thank you, Martha, for taking care of Hansel. I’m tired, so I’ll go to bed now,” she said before casually turning and leaving the kitchen.

Martha was left puzzled. “What’s going on?” she thought. Ingrid used to compete for the chance to bring him the hangover remedy; why the sudden change?

Martha poured half of the hangover soup into a bowl, placed it on a tray, and carried it up to the master bedroom.

Hansel hadn’t drunk much that night, but he hadn’t eaten dinner. His stomach was starting to ache again.

When Martha brought the hot soup, he accepted it without hesitation and drank it all in one go. She took the empty bowl and tray, quietly exiting the room and softly closing the door behind her.

Hansel lay on the bed with his eyes closed, resting and waiting for the discomfort in his stomach to ease.

After some time, his stomach felt better, but his body grew increasingly warm. Just as he was about to get up to lower the air conditioning, the bedroom door suddenly swung open from the outside.

Ingrid walked to the bedside barefoot. Seeing Hansel lying there, seemingly drunk, a smile involuntarily crept onto her lips.

He appeared to be overheating; his top buttons were undone, and his cheeks had a faint flush. His muscular arm hung over the side of the bed, showing his defined, strong fingers.

The dark shirt he wore added to his aloof air, making him look intimidating.

Ingrid’s mind drifted back to the first time they had slept together. Hansel was also drunk and repeatedly called out Miranda’s name.

Upon seeing his slightly open shirt, her eyes lingered on his prominent Adam’s apple, which caused her heart to skip a beat. She moved closer, her fingers lightly tracing circles on his chest, and subtly slid downward.

Suddenly, Hansel moved, rolling over to face away from her. Startled, Ingrid immediately straightened up with cold sweat breaking out on her back.

She glanced down at her nightgown, recalling how wearing Miranda’s clothes had sparked Hansel’s interest before. Her eyes gleamed with an idea, and she walked over to the wardrobe.

This time, she chose a lace nightgown for herself. It had a conservative front but a large cutout at the back, making it easy for a man’s hand to slide in.

She couldn’t help but curse Miranda under her breath, “Slut!”

Was she better than her? They both used their bodies to keep a man, after all.

Miranda took six years to embed herself in Hansel’s heart. Even after their breakup, she still occupied his thoughts.

Ingrid was determined that she could do the same. No, not just for six years—she wanted to be the rightful Mrs. Johnson and be entangled with him for a lifetime.

With that thought, Ingrid’s eyes gleamed with excitement. She slipped behind Hansel, hugging him as she began to tease him.

But the next second, Hansel, who was supposed to be dead drunk, suddenly opened his eyes and yanked her arms off him violently.

With a startled cry, Ingrid was thrown off the bed.

Hansel stood over her expressionlessly. “Are you still thinking about these things while you’re pregnant? You really are shameless.”

He averted his gaze as if even looking at her would soil his eyes.

Suddenly, his eyes stopped and darted back to Ingrid. More precisely, they landed on the nightgown she was wearing. It was Miranda’s.

As realization dawned on him, his gaze sharpened. “The first time we slept together, were you wearing Miranda’s nightgown too?”

Ingrid sat on the floor, eyes blank and completely stunned.

“Answer me!” Hansel stepped forward, gripping her cheeks tightly, his strength increasing.

“It hurts…” Ingrid’s eyes reddened as tears streamed down her face.

Hansel was unfazed. His grip was like a vise, leaving red marks on Ingrid’s pale cheeks.