Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny (Quintessa and Tyrone) novel Chapter 222

Cecilia watched Quintessa devour ribs one after another without pause. In a blink of an eye, half the plate was gone, leaving a small pile of bones before her. Cecilia couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since this little vixen had last eaten.

For every cook, there's nothing more satisfying than watching others devour their dishes and praise them endlessly. It brings them a sense of accomplishment.

Feeling secretly pleased, Cecilia thought to herself how irresistible her cooking was, given how Quintessa was practically licking the plate clean.

Cecilia wrinkled her nose in disdain, “Don’t you actors need to maintain your figure, sticking to diets? Aren’t you afraid of losing your job if you eat so much?”

Quintessa blinked at Cecilia, “Auntie, don’t worry. No matter how much I eat, I won’t gain weight. Besides, with your son around, there’s no way I’ll be out of a job.”

Cecilia scoffed, “Quit bragging. There’s no such thing as a person who can eat whatever they want and not gain weight.”

Quintessa spat out a rib bone, “Well, that’s me. My stomach’s ruined and can't absorb nutrients well, so of course, I won’t gain weight.”

Mrs. York was momentarily stunned, saying nothing. After a while, she gestured for Wilma to come over.

In no time, Wilma brought Quintessa a bowl of soup, enriched various nutrients, steaming with a sweet scent.

Quintessa paused. This soup was meant to be soothing for the stomach, and suddenly, she felt a bit choked up.

She tried to sound natural, “Auntie, you’re so kind to me. Are you trying to move me so I'll let your son off the hook?”

Cecilia huffed, “It’s just leftovers. It’d go bad by tomorrow and I don’t like to waste food. You think I care about you? If I care about you, you need to be someone worthy of my concern.”

With that remark, Cecilia left with the same air of dignity that Tyrone often displayed.

When he was with Quintessa, all sense and intelligence seemed to have abandoned him.

Tyrone angrily bit into a rib, glaring at Quintessa as if he were devouring her flesh.

Quintessa playfully touched Tyrone’s cheek, “Don’t be shy; that day will come eventually.”

Tyrone crunched a bone, “Yeah, the day I sleep-deprive you to death will come.”

“Ty, son.” Cecilia called out several times from the side, but got no response. She raised her voice and shouted, “Tyrone York, are you even listening to me?”

Tyrone slowly turned, a look of utter despair on his face, “Mom, from today on, I’m not a York. I’m taking her last name. Please call me Tyrone Young.”