Oops I Banged the CEO novel Chapter 29

A family like that felt like a bottomless pit she’d never escape.

Yvonne didn’t want Marico to get dragged any deeper, afraid he’d end up suffering for her sake.

Marico took a slow, steady breath, his sharp features thrown into even starker relief by the dim elevator light. “If I cared about money or status, I wouldn’t have married you.”

“Hm?” Yvonne sniffed, wiping her tears before tipping her face up to look at him.

Wasn’t their marriage a spur-of-the-moment thing? Had he actually investigated her background?

“No one’s family is better than mine. Protecting my wife—that’s my responsibility as a man.”

His expression was icy, brow furrowed, his voice cold and unreadable. But beneath it, Yvonne could hear the weight of responsibility.

She knew all this, somewhere deep down.

She was truly grateful he’d come tonight. If he hadn’t, she’d have been utterly humiliated.

“Thank you, Mr. Hamilton.”

“I thought getting married would fix everything,” she admitted quietly, “but I never imagined these problems would still follow me—and now you’re caught up in it, too.”

She’d hoped marriage would be her escape from her family’s clutches, but now Marico was entangled in the mess alongside her.

Her words were heavy with apology.

“If you want to—” Yvonne started, voice soft.

But Marico cut her off before she could even finish the word “divorce.”

“Let’s not talk about that. Let’s just go home.”

The elevator doors slid open and Marico let go of her hand.

Yvonne’s anxiety didn’t fade—if anything, she felt even more drained. The prospect of returning home filled her with dread.

Marico was a reserved man. He’d just been insulted upstairs by her relatives, accused of being a freeloader. Would he really tolerate this?

“Did you drive yourself here?” Yvonne asked in a shaky voice.

“Yeah.” Marico nodded curtly.

“They’re probably watching us from upstairs,” Yvonne said, her voice small. “If you drive your car, they’ll know something’s up. Why not just ride with me?”

Meanwhile, Marico hunched awkwardly in the tiny car, unable to sit up straight. He called his assistant to come pick up his own vehicle.

“I can see you’re uncomfortable. Do you want to wait outside instead?” Yvonne asked, her red-rimmed eyes flicking up shyly to his stoic face.

“Have you eaten?” Marico replied, ignoring the question.

“No,” Yvonne shook her head. She’d left work in a rush and, after everything that happened, she wasn’t even hungry. “I’m not really in the mood. Besides, I still need to buy some bedding and stuff. You should go get dinner.”

“We’ll eat together,” Marico said, his face impassive.

This old car was so cramped, he didn’t even want to speak.

“Why don’t we stop by the grocery store? I could cook for us at home,” Yvonne suggested.

“I can’t cook,” Marico admitted, frowning.

“But I can!” Yvonne said, a hint of brightness returning to her tone. “I’m actually a decent cook—and I owe you for getting me this car anyway.”

She finally seemed a little more at ease.

“I already had William stock the house with groceries and supplies. If you want anything fresh, I’ll have him pick it up and deliver it,” Marico said, softening a bit. He rarely explained himself, but tonight, he seemed to want her to understand.