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Chapter 100

Noelle was startled, thinking a burglar had broken in. When she saw the familiar face of the man, her expression turned cold.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Quentin stepped inside and said, "I'm hungry. I want to eat the homemade pasta you make."

Typically, he was the kind of man who cared about his image, yet he was only wearing pajamas.

She wasn't pleased by the sudden intrusion, so she snapped, "Go ask Xyla to cook for you."

Why should she make him food when they were already getting divorced?

He grasped her wrist, his deep onyx eyes softening.

He sighed, "I promise to keep my distance from Xyla from now on, okay?"

She paused.

As she was still contemplating the truth of his words, Quentin casually walked in and sat on the sofa. He leaned back as if he was completely exhausted.

"It's been so long since I've eaten your pasta. Sometimes, I even dream about it," he remarked.

Something in Noelle's heart softened. For that moment, she felt a pang of tenderness.

"Wait he
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