"Enough," Donovan coldly said to Lily. "Giselle can eat whatever she wants. From now on, prepare an extra portion for her with every meal."
"Oh… Alright," Lily reluctantly agreed, though her tone betrayed her displeasure.
After taking a few more sips of the soup, Giselle pushed it aside disdainfully. "It's completely bland. I don't want it. You can drink it yourself!"
Pulling out her phone, she opened a food delivery app and scrolled through a few nearby restaurants. Then, she ordered some tacos.
When it arrived, Giselle didn't hesitate for a second. She sat right there in the ward and dug in, completely unbothered that Donovan was watching her.
Compared to the tasteless, overpriced so-called nutritious meals he was served, the cheap street food was far more appetizing.
Giselle ate without the slightest concern for appearances. She wolfed down the food by the mouthful until the rich smell of the tacos filled the entire room.
The scent clashed horribly with the hospital suite, which was decorated more like a five-star hotel than a sickroom.
She hadn't had such an appetite since Donovan's accident. For the first time in days, she could finally eat until she was satisfied.
Giselle did so openly in front of him, savoring every bite. Halfway through, she glanced at him, holding up a taco. "Hey, do you want some?" she teased.
"No," Donovan replied, frowning slightly.
As someone who had been pampered from childhood, the last thing a man like Donovan would ever do was eat greasy street food the commoner craved.
Even when he was healthy, he wouldn't have touched it. Now that he was injured and recovering, he was even less inclined.
For Donovan, eating was never about indulgence or filling his stomach. It was about refinement, health, and control.
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