Pregnant Cultivator, Doted by Big Boss

Celeste Grant was holding her phone.

With a light swipe of her finger, she used her Magic, and a clear view of the next room appeared before her eyes. Raising her gaze, she glanced at the frail figure inside. Celeste Grant aimed her phone at him, found a good angle, and snapped a photo.

After she took the photo, she waved her hand, and the magical view of the next room disappeared, the wall returning to normal.

Having taken the photo, Celeste Grant looked down at it and nodded repeatedly.

"His eyes look clean enough, and he has the air of a landlord’s simple-minded son," she muttered. Inside, however, her thoughts ran on. ’He’s a little on the frail side, but that can be fixed with some proper care. He should fit the criteria Rook’s sister is looking for in a Taoist Companion. I remember Daisy, the sister of the Hall Master of Bloodfury Hall, said she likes more delicate-looking male cultivators.’

’This guy is delicate enough, right? And he just so happens to want a tall wife. Isn’t that a coincidence? What one person dislikes, another might just happen to love. It just goes to show that to each their own.’

At this thought, she nodded slightly.

"He’s decent-looking, I suppose."

This was her objective assessment. Personally, she didn’t like his type; he looked like a strong gust of wind could blow him away. As Mrs. Rook would say, he was like a bamboo pole.

Her mind subconsciously conjured an image of her own Old Fiend Sinclair—devilishly handsome and wicked, tall with long legs, and a man of strong will and beauty with eight-pack abs. Celeste Grant blushed. ’Yep, it’s still my Archfiend who really gets my heart racing.’

Just as she finished her assessment, a dark figure appeared silently beside her. A hand reached out and took her phone. At the same time, a man’s voice drifted over lazily.

"Heh heh... He is ’decent-looking,’ I suppose. Got eyes, got a nose. I had no idea my wife had so much free time to come here and ogle male cultivators. And even take pictures."

Celeste Grant raised an eyebrow slightly.

’What kind of description is that? ’Got eyes, got a nose’?’

Celeste Grant, who was sitting by the window, turned slightly to look at the man who had appeared beside her. It was Javier Sinclair. He was holding her phone, his gaze fixed on the photo as if trying to burn a hole through it.

Seeing his expression, Celeste Grant smiled. "What are you doing here?" ’I was just thinking about him, and here he is.’

Hearing this, Javier Sinclair’s composure cracked. He slammed the phone down on the nearby table with a CLAP, holding it in place with his hand. He planted his other hand on the windowsill, trapping her in front of him. She was sitting, while he stood beside her, leaning over slightly.

"What do you mean, ’why am I here’? Can’t I be here?"

As he spoke, Javier Sinclair glared at her fiercely. "If I hadn’t shown up, your eyes would have been glued to that kid’s face, and you were even blushing. Did I interrupt you?"

Hearing this, Celeste Grant chuckled. "The Archfiend is reeking of jealousy. Can’t you smell it?"

Javier Sinclair gave a sinister smile and said nothing.

’The ’ex-husband’ was one thing.’

’He’s already dead, after all.’

’Now where did this scrawny kid pop out from? Why do all these flies keep buzzing around my wife?’ At this thought, he gritted his teeth. "Celeste Grant, I am not someone you can provoke lightly. Now that you have, you’ll have to take responsibility to the very end. And you’d better not let your eyes wander. Otherwise, I think it’s about time that kid was buried six feet under. And as for you, I won’t let you off easy either."

"Oh."

Celeste Grant nodded slightly.

"So fierce. That poor boy is probably crying his eyes out in a bathroom stall somewhere." She reached out to cup his face, leaning in close to his ear and whispering, "But, *husband*... how exactly are you going to not let me off easy?" As she spoke, her fingers trailed from his face down to the side of his neck, where they stopped.

Javier Sinclair was flustered by her teasing.

Feeling her touch, he remained motionless, but the tips of his ears turned red against his will. "You shameless woman."

"What are you talking about?" Celeste Grant said with an innocent expression. "I didn’t do a thing. Maybe your mind is the one in the gutter. Right?" As she spoke, she bent a finger and gently scraped his Adam’s apple.

Before he could speak, she turned her head, kissed him on the ear, and then looked up at him.

"Are you angry?"

Javier Sinclair glanced at her.

"What do you think?"

Celeste Grant smiled faintly.

"Looks like you really are angry."

He stared at her, a wicked look on his face. "Angry... I’m not that kind of person. I don’t get angry at my own woman. If my wife has the inclination to look at other men, then that must be my problem." To Celeste Grant’s stunned surprise, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "And when there’s a problem, you solve it directly."

The moment he finished speaking, an arm tightened around Celeste Grant’s waist, and she was pulled into his embrace. Javier Sinclair fluidly took her seat, pulling Celeste Grant onto his lap.

"Javier Sinclair..."

She had just opened her mouth when his face filled her vision. Before Celeste Grant could react, his lips had captured hers, swallowing the words she was about to say.

"Shhh... I don’t want to listen right now."

He kissed her.

Javier Sinclair’s kiss was forceful, full of possessiveness. ’Maybe he really is angry.’

His arm was wrapped around her waist, and even in the heat of their passionate kiss, he didn’t forget to shield her back with his other hand to keep her from bumping against the windowsill. This was a second-floor window; anyone who looked up could see them.

’Someone could see us here.’

Celeste Grant blushed.

’Damn man.’

Though she cursed him in her mind, her arms still wrapped around his shoulders, and she returned his kiss...

When the kiss was over,

Celeste Grant touched the hickey on her neck and glared at him. "Why were you so rough? Don’t you see this hurts?"

Sitting on Javier Sinclair’s lap, she let him have it. "I think you’re asking to kneel on a washboard, you old fiend."

Javier Sinclair wrapped one arm around her waist and gently caressed her neck with his other hand. "Does it hurt? Is your mind full of me now? Still in the mood to look at other men?" Even though he knew she wasn’t actually interested in someone else, seeing her stare at another man still made him subconsciously jealous and angry. But when she called him *husband* and let him hold her obediently like this, he was secretly delighted.

’She doesn’t curse at others.’

’Only at me.’

’As expected, I’m the only one in my wife’s heart.’

He hugged her tighter.

"Don’t look at other men from now on. What’s so great about a weakling like that?"

Celeste Grant started laughing. "Alright, that’s enough. You’re about to drown in your own jealousy. You got all jealous without even asking why I took the photo."

He held her tighter.

He rested his head on her shoulder.

And asked slowly,

"Is he even worthy of my asking?"

After saying that,

He immediately followed up with: "So, why did you take the picture? And you said he was ’decent-looking.’ And you were all sneaky about it. And you were blushing at his photo." He had really seen all that, which was why he’d gotten so angry.