The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 697

Chapter 697

Ivy glanced at the elegant, tranquil bouquet of tulips. A genuine smile lit up her face as she reached out. “They’re beautiful. Bring them here, let me have a closer look.

Jamison’s handsome features darkened.

“So, you’re telling me that old fox sent them?” His sharp tongue struck again.

Ivy shot him a look. “Would it kill you to say something nice? He’s not even that old.”

“He’s over ten years older than you. Didn’t you say he’s divorced and has kids in grade school? If that’s not an old fox, what is?”

In the finance world, men with real influence aren’t just old foxes–they’re ancient wolves, sly as they come.

Jamison knew his wife was clever and quick–witted, but even the smartest people could stumble or get caught up in someone’s schemes. Especially when it was a middle–aged man–he couldn’t help but be on guard.

Ivy didn’t bother arguing. She just beckoned again, “Come on, bring me the flowers.” Jamison turned, sized up the bouquet, and bent to pick it up.

But instead of handing them to his wife, who was still reaching from her hospital bed, he marched over to the trash can and tossed them in with a loud thud.

“Gifts from other men? Absolutely not,” Jamison said coolly, his face hard.

Ivy stared, eyebrows knitting in disbelief.

She glanced at the trash can, then at her husband. Suddenly, her patience snapped.

After over a month cooped up in this hospital room, she’d already faced life d death–had her spleen removed, then surgery on her tailbone. As if that weren’t enough, she’d suffered a miscarriage and undergone yet another operation.

Her body–and her spirit–had endured blow after blow, pain after pain. No matter how attentive Jamison was, the frustration and gloom never truly left her. She tried to swallow it all down, not wanting to add to his burden when he’d clearly been struggling to care for her.

Today, she’d finally seen something lovely–a bouquet so bright and delicate, she just wanted to hold it, admire it, let it lift her mood for a moment. But Jamison,

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jealous as ever, tossed it straight into the trash.

Those gorgeous flowers, so fresh and vivid, thrown away like they were nothing.

What a waste.

“Pick up the flowers,” Ivy said after a long moment, her voice suddenly cold and her expression shuttered.

Jamison froze at her reaction, then his own temper flared. “It’s just a bunch of flowers! Do you care about the bouquet, or is it the man who gave them?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ivy bristled. Did he even hear himself?

Jamison’s jaw clenched. “He’s into you. The only reason he hasn’t made a move is because he knows he can’t compete with me. If your husband were an ordinary guy, that man would’ve swooped in long ago.”

In their industry, this sort of thing was hardly unheard of.

“So, if he wanted to ‘swoop in, I’d just let him?” Ivy shot back. “Jamison, I’m not some clueless little girl who doesn’t know how to protect herself.”

She felt his words were more than just an insult to her loyalty–they were an insult to her intelligence.

This was too much.

“I know you’re smart and capable, but women are still at a disadvantage with men-” he started.

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