By the time Nyxia finished washing her face and came down to the first floor, the dining table had already been set.
A private chef was placing the last plate of food when she entered the dining room.
The aroma of warm soup and freshly cooked dishes filled the air.
Wilder was already seated at the head of the table, dressed casually yet still looking neat.
He glanced up when he noticed her and pulled out the chair beside him without saying anything.
Nyxia hesitated, then sat down at a distance.
Wilder immediately frowned.
“Closer.”
“This is fine.”
“Nyxia.”
After a short stare-down, Nyxia reluctantly moved one seat closer.
The chef bowed politely and left the room after confirming everything was ready, leaving them alone with the food.
Wilder picked up a spoon, scooped a bit of soup, and held it out toward her.
“Open your mouth.”
Nyxia stared at the spoon, then at him.
“I can eat by myself.”
“Your hand still needs rest.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my hand anymore.”
“Doctor’s order,” Wilder said flatly.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Nyxia pressed her lips together.
She wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes showed he wasn’t going to give in.
After a few seconds of silent resistance, she finally opened her mouth with clear reluctance.
Wilder fed her slowly, looking strangely satisfied each time she swallowed.
Nyxia chewed with a dark expression, already planning how to get back at him.
When the chef returned to refill the water jug, an idea suddenly formed in her mind.
Nyxia put on an innocent expression and turned toward the chef with a polite smile.
“You’ve been working here for four years, right?” she asked gently.
“Then you must know that I don’t like onions in my food.
Wilder always reminds you about that, doesn’t he?”
The chef froze.
His eyes shifted uncomfortably between Nyxia and Wilder.
For a moment, he looked completely lost.
“I… apologize, Madam,” he said carefully.
“I don’t quite understand…”
“You don’t know?” Nyxia tilted her head, still smiling softly, though her eyes gleamed with quiet triumph.
“How is that possible?
I’ve been married to your employer.
Shouldn’t the household staff know something as simple as the lady of the house’s preferences?”
The chef’s face turned stiff.
He opened his mouth, clearly struggling to find a proper answer.
Before he could speak, Wilder’s voice cut through the air , calm but sharp.
“That’s enough.”
Wilder set his utensils down slowly.
His expression was no longer teasing.
It was serious, almost cold.
“The staff here are not allowed to interact more than necessary with my wife,” he said, still looking at the chef.
“Their only duty is to do their work properly.
Nothing else.”
The chef immediately lowered his head.
“Yes, Sir.”
Wilder continued, his tone steady and firm.
“I’m a jealous man.
I don’t like it when other people know more about my wife than I do.
If anyone here starts getting too familiar or talks about things they shouldn’t…” He paused.
“They’re fired.”
The dining room fell completely silent.
Nyxia stared at him, momentarily lost for words.
She had wanted to create trouble and watch him get flustered.
Instead, Wilder had turned the situation around with a completely serious claim of possessiveness.
Wilder finally looked at her.
His gaze was deep and unwavering.
“You don’t need to rely on anyone else in this house,” he said.
“Not the staff.
Not anyone.
The only person you’re allowed to depend on… is me.”
Nyxia’s fingers tightened under the table.
For the first time that morning, she couldn’t immediately find a reply.
Breakfast ended in silence.
The moment the last plate was cleared, Wilder set his napkin down and glanced toward the doorway.
As if on cue, several household staff members stepped into the dining room and lined up neatly.
There were four of them, two women and two men, all standing with polite postures.
Nyxia looked at them in mild surprise.
Wilder rose from his seat and stood beside her chair, resting one hand casually on the backrest.
“Since my wife still can’t remember anything,” he said , “it’s better that she gets to know everyone in this house.”
He gestured toward the first person.
“This is Anna.
She handles the cleaning on the second floor.”
The woman bowed politely.
“Nice to meet you, Madam.”
Nyxia returned a small smile.
One by one, the rest of the staff introduced themselves under Wilder’s direction.
Each of them spoke carefully, calling her “Madam,” yet none of them showed even the slightest familiarity.
Their greetings were formal and distant, exactly the way someone would greet a stranger.
Nyxia listened quietly.
A faint sense of admiration rose despite herself. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Wilder was good at this.
He created a natural-looking excuse without a single crack in his expression, even though these people had no idea who she was.
When the last person finished speaking, Nyxia tilted her head and put on an innocent, thoughtful look.
“Since I’ve forgotten everything…” she said softly, turning toward one of the older female staff members, “maybe you could tell me about my habits?
Something I used to do every day.
It might help trigger my memory.”
The woman stiffened.
Her eyes quickly flickered toward Wilder, confused and unsure how to answer.
The atmosphere in the room shifted at once.
Before the staff member could open her mouth, Wilder spoke.
“That’s enough.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a firmness that made everyone fall silent.
He looked at Nyxia, his expression serious.
“You just returned from the hospital.
The doctor specifically said not to force your memories.
Let them return naturally.”
Nyxia met his gaze and smiled, small, polite, and quietly triumphant.
She could see it clearly.
For a brief moment, there had been a flicker of tension in his eyes.
He’s panicking.
Satisfied, she lowered her gaze and nodded obediently.
“Alright.”
Wilder studied her for another second, then turned to the staff.
“You may all return to your work.”
They bowed and quickly left the dining room.
Once they were alone, Wilder looked at Nyxia again.
His earlier seriousness faded, replaced by a annoyed expression.
“Don’t ask them unnecessary questions,” he said low and dominant voice.
“I was only trying to remember,” Nyxia replied with innocent.
Wilder didn’t argue further.
Instead, he took a step closer and held out his hand.
“Come with me.”
Nyxia glanced at his hand, then up at his face.
“Where?”
“Shopping.”
She frowned.
“Shopping for what?”
Wilder didn’t answer.
He simply waited, eyes steady on her, as if the discussion was already over.
Nyxia stared at him for a moment longer before finally standing up.
Whatever he was planning, it was clear she wouldn’t get an explanation here.
Without another word, Wilder placed a hand on her back and guided her toward the front door.