Rebirth Revenge Is Everything (Ariana) novel Chapter 660

The butler watched the young master's retreating figure as he ascended the stairs, then turned toward the kitchen with a thoughtful expression. He made a mental note to instruct the cook to prepare some of the young mistress's favorite dishes.

After all, this prolonged tension couldn't be good for either the young mistress or the unborn child.

Meanwhile, Sheryl, standing near the tea table, gazed dreamily at the young master’s tall, commanding figure. The fantasies swirling in her heart grew harder to suppress.

But she wouldn’t let anyone notice.

She allowed herself only a fleeting second of distraction before quickly snapping back to reality, lowering her head to avoid the butler’s sharp gaze.

If he caught even a hint of her thoughts, she’d surely be dismissed. And she couldn’t afford to lose this job—not now, not yet.

...

Lambert gently pushed open the bedroom door.

Ariana lay deep in slumber, her face as serene as ever.

For some inexplicable reason, the corner of Lambert’s lips twitched upward.

He moved closer, sitting down slowly beside her, his fingers lightly brushing the faint crease between her brows. Pregnancy had made it difficult for her to find a comfortable position, and even in the depths of sleep, a trace of tension lingered on her forehead—so subtle that he might have missed it had he not been looking closely.

Perhaps sensing his familiar presence, Ariana—already a light sleeper—stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering before she drowsily opened her eyes. When Lambert’s face came into focus, she blinked slowly, taking a moment to fully wake before narrowing her eyes with a cold huff.

"You're back?"

Lambert nodded slightly. "Mmm."

His voice still carried a trace of hoarseness.

Ariana frowned, her concern surfacing instinctively. "What's wrong? Did you drink too much at last night's dinner? Does your head still hurt?" She couldn't miss the weariness lingering in Lambert's expression.

A soft chuckle escaped him, his smile tender, his dark eyes holding no one but her.

"It's nothing. The pain's gone," he murmured.

With that, he lifted a corner of Ariana's blanket, shrugged off his outer coat, and slipped in beside her.

Ariana: "..."

Her lips twitched. "What are you doing?"

Lambert narrowed his eyes, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. "Catching up on sleep, of course. I barely rested last night without you beside me."

A flush crept up Ariana's cheeks. Amusement flickered through her as well.

Honestly, after all these years of marriage, he still spouted such cheesy lines.

Still.

*Ahem.* Not that she minded.

She mentally chided herself, yet her body betrayed her, instinctively shifting to make more room so he could lie comfortably and rest. Sensing this, Lambert shook his head in mild exasperation. He caught her hand, cradling it in his palm, and whispered, "Just a little space is enough for me. Stay as you are—don’t worry about me."

Touched but unwilling to show it, Ariana teased, "Not even born yet, and you're already spoiling your daughter? Hmm? No wonder they say a daughter is a father's lover from a past life."

Actually, Ariana never went to check the baby's gender.

But Lambert had been going on and on about wanting a daughter, so she just casually played along.

Of course, it was only a joke.

Yet when Lambert heard it, his eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint smile curled at the corners of his lips. "How could she ever compare to you?" he murmured. "It's not because she's my daughter that I love her—it's because she's yours and mine. In my heart, no one could ever measure up to you."

She was annoyed.

The young mistress was probably just afraid she’d get too close to the young master if she brought the food in, so she insisted on having it left downstairs instead. Sheryl scoffed inwardly—petty tricks were all someone from a modest background could manage.

When she saw Ariana struggling down the stairs with her heavily pregnant belly, her disdain reached its peak.

Of course, she wasn’t foolish enough to show it, keeping her contempt carefully hidden.

The nutritionist attending to Ariana nearly panicked at the sight.

Rushing forward, she fretted, "Young Mistress, you’re too far along for this—going up and down the stairs is dangerous!" The steps might be slip-proof, but that didn’t guarantee safety.

If anything happened…"

Everyone in this villa would be finished. Forget bonuses—they’d be lucky to escape without pay cuts!

Ariana smiled faintly.

Perhaps it was because Lambert had been unusually sweet-talking today that her mood was particularly good. With a helpless chuckle at the nutritionist, she said, "Don't worry, I'm being careful."

The nutritionist still felt uneasy but didn’t press further. Instead, she helped Ariana settle into her seat.

In her cheerful state, Ariana’s appetite improved slightly. This time, she managed to sip her porridge without any nausea.

The nutritionist couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

As long as she could eat, that was what mattered.

"Madam," the nutritionist advised gently, "please remember to move around more these days, but avoid the stairs. If possible, it would be best if you and the young master could move to the first floor. You’re already quite far along—it’s easy for accidents to happen."

This place was nothing like the main residence, after all. The care here simply wasn’t as meticulous.