"You're the one who was framed. Why should I help?"
Zachary Fairchild looked at Olivia Wynne, his jet-black eyes holding a faint question.
Olivia: ...
'This jerk. Just yesterday he wouldn't shut up about us being husband and wife, and now that I ask for a simple favor, this is what he says.'
Leaning forward, Olivia said calmly, "Weren't you the one who said we're husband and wife? In that case, shouldn't you help me?"
The solemn expression on Zachary's face immediately gave way to a smile. "Olivia is right. We're husband and wife; it's only right that we help each other."
That meant Zachary had agreed. Olivia immediately followed up, "Thank you, then."
Now that the important business was settled, she could finally rest. Between the shopping, changing the curtains, and tidying up the room, she was exhausted.
Standing up to face Zachary, Olivia said in a crisp voice, "It's late. I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."
