The Billionaire's Silent Treatment Chapter 2

2:00 PM the next day.

I woke up starving.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw an incredibly handsome face and a pair of deep, dark eyes.

It was Arthur.

I have to admit, as the male lead, Arthur was objectively gorgeous.

His features were sharp and chiseled. He was 6'2", with a broad frame and a narrow waist—an extreme physical contrast to me.

No wonder, even though he was autistic and currently just a despised illegitimate son, there were still countless women in our social circle waiting to push me out and become the new Mrs. Sterling.

I could appreciate the view, but I couldn't eat it.

So frustrating!

Annoyed, I rolled over. Only then did it slowly dawn on me that I was sleeping naked!

I instantly dove under the covers.

I roared, "Arthur Sterling! Why are you in my room?!"

Of course, Arthur didn't answer.

Blushing furiously, I grabbed my pajamas from under the covers and hastily pulled them on.

I peeked out from a tiny crack in the blanket.

There was hot water and cold medicine on the nightstand.

He was actually pretty nice.

Even though our marriage was arranged by his late mother and we had no romantic feelings for each other... Once the female lead appeared, our flimsy, better-than-nothing three-year marriage would come to an end.

No fighting, no drama, just an amicable divorce.

But for these three years, Arthur and I had treated each other with polite respect.

Arthur's ears were bright red.

He coughed lightly, looked away, and with a slightly inexperienced touch, felt my forehead.

Then he let out a low sigh of relief.

The fever had broken.

I clutched my stomach, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes.

"Arthur, I'm hungry."

Hearing this, he froze, looking at me in disbelief.

I held out both my hands, looking incredibly innocent:

"Look at what the grease and smoke in the kitchen have done to my hands! A few more trips to the kitchen and I'll turn into a haggard old woman! I'm not going, I'm not going."

His frown deepened, his eyes filled with even more confusion.

I felt a little guilty. "Fine, I admit I usually just order takeout, I don't cook."

Arthur opened a food delivery app on his phone and handed it to me.

I pushed it away:

"Takeout is bad for you! Especially for someone recovering from an illness! It's all processed meat. It's better not to eat at all!"

Finally, he opened an electronic recipe book.

It featured basic dishes like tomato and egg stir-fry, pepper steak, steamed pork ribs, etc.

My eyes lit up, and I quickly pointed to a few: "This one, this one, and this one. I want them all."

The system sighed helplessly: [You are the weakest host I've ever had. How did you catch a cold from that?!]

[Also, you're really just letting him in the kitchen? Aren't you afraid he'll poison you or blow the place up? The male lead has autism right now, can you show a little more patience?!]

"I'm a patient too! Besides, what does autism have to do with cooking?!"

[You're just making excuses!]

"I'm speaking the truth!"

"System, didn't you say the male lead is a genius and can learn anything? Is a little bit of cooking really going to stump him?"

The system grew frantic: [Is the male lead's high IQ supposed to be used for THIS?!]

Why not?

Life is just three meals a day.

Who says dealing with groceries and cooking doesn't require intelligence?