When she unveils identities novel (Shirley and Braden) novel Chapter 539

Summary for Chapter 539: When she unveils identities novel (Shirley and Braden)

Chapter Summary: Chapter 539 – When she unveils identities novel (Shirley and Braden) by Zaylee CortéZ

In Chapter 539, a key moment in the Romance novel When she unveils identities novel (Shirley and Braden), Zaylee CortéZ delivers powerful storytelling, emotional shifts, and critical plot development. This chapter deepens the reader’s connection to the characters and sets the stage for upcoming revelations.

Chapter 539 Do You Have a Death Wish?

"You are quiet these days, more like a lady."

Braden said slightly.

Though he had not yet spent much time with her, the image of her nagging like a chatterbox had long since taken root in his heart.

But for some reason, in the past few days, the woman has been surprisingly quiet. Many a time the two of them would simply sit quietly and say nothing. Her voice, too, gave him the faint sensation of a sapling swaying in the wind.

Unusual, very unusual!

"That's because I am a lady."

Shirley said in a very soft voice.

"Yes, a lady who hit the black bear with her bare hands. I’m really curious about what you look like."

Braden smiled, and his eyes were gentle, which he did not even notice himself.

He had no idea why. He made no impression upon her, but he enjoyed the time they spent together, and found it as natural to do those things with her as if they had known each other a long time.

This kind of feeling made him feel more pleasant than being with Alina.

At first, he stayed to find the "answer", but now he didn't have any purpose. All he wanted was to stay, to "obey his heart".

"You'll see what I look like soon."

Shirley stared at his increasingly charming and energetic aura, full of hope for everything.

It was really good. The man, who used to be confident and noble, was back. The decadent and lonely feeling in his body was gradually disappearing, and she felt particularly relieved.

The sun was warm. Half a day passed as the clouds changed and shifted.

The woman suddenly felt very tired and couldn't open her eyes. She only thought that she didn't sleep well last night, so she was not energetic.

"I'm going to make a cup of coffee. Do you need it?"

Shirley stood up from the rattan chair and asked Braden.

"If you make it yourself. I'd like to taste it."

Braden was pleased, and did not at all regard himself as an outsider. He began to order in a fastidious way, "I'm quite picky about my taste. The temperature of the coffee should not exceed 136.4 degrees, only two sugars, and the original flavor brought from the hand-ground..."

"No problem, just wait."

Shirley listened to the man's hundreds of words with unprecedented patience.

She couldn't help but sigh inside. Braden, as always, was arrogant and difficult to deal with!

Yet, after all these years as Braden's wife, she was excellent at making coffee for him, though her other skills might not have been as good.

And for so many years, the coffee she made was made with the same kind of coffee beans. The temperature, the sugar, and the granularity all appealed to his taste, so she was confident that he would again be impressed by the coffee she made.

Shirley came to the dining area of the west room, opened the drawer, took out the cherished small can of coffee beans, then opened the lid of the coffee machine, put the coffee beans in, and began to grind them.

This coffee machine was different from an automatic coffee machine. It was a manual coffee grinder made of wood. It took a lot of effort to grind a bean, but the coffee powder that was ground out could maintain the "original taste" that Braden had specifically emphasized.

"It doesn't matter what kind of superstition it is. It's useful."

Shirley didn't argue much. She took the coffee machine from Everett's hand and continued to grind the coffee.

Her blood was taken from her wrists. Each time she did this, she had to cut her wrist and then bandage it with gauze. After several times, she felt that her hands were almost broken.

Otherwise, it wouldn't be so hard to grind coffee. It hurt so much!

"Why are you grinding it? The wounds are torn open!"

Everett, seeing her was firm, had no other ways and then said, ’You don't need the person he loves to grind this too, do you? I'll grind it for you."

Shirley turned her aching wrists and nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Cara."

Though Everett was the vice president, she was sweating profusely from the coffee beans she had been patiently grinding.

The two of them chatted casually.

Shirley suddenly remembered something and asked, "Mrs. Cara, you were my mother's best friend back then. You should know about my brother, right?’

Everett was speechless.

She froze as if some spell had been cast, and the expression on her face was visibly flustered. "You kid, why are you asking this all of a sudden? You... You did have an older brother, but he died the year he was born, so your parents hid it from the outside world as well as from you. How did you know?"

"You also know that my mother was pregnant with a boy and a girl, and I did have a brother?"

Shirley was a little surprised and hurriedly asked, "Then do you know what exactly happened back then? Who was so hateful that didn’t even let go of an infant?"