Forbidden Passion
Chapter 164 She Hated Flies as Much as She Hated Phoebe

After her shower, Phoebe emerged to find Theodore leaning against the window, gazing out at the night scene. She pursed her lips, not really wanting to engage with him, and turned to head for the walk-in closet. She dried her hair and then heard the doorbell ring. She walked out of the bedroom.

Vanessa stood at the entrance. There was a flash of resentment in her eyes when she saw Phoebe, but it quickly disappeared.

"Miss Ziegler, the cupcakes you made were delicious. Theodore saw that I liked them and gave them all to me. You don't mind, do you?" Vanessa said, her words a veiled dagger aimed at Phoebe's heart. Phoebe felt a lump in her throat, "Is that so?"

"Uh-huh," Vanessa nodded, looking smug.

Phoebe laughed, "I'm glad you liked them. However, while I was kneading the dough, I found a dead fly in it. I didn't tell Theodore; I wonder if you noticed it." Vanessa, despite knowing Phoebe was trying to disgust her, couldn't help the revulsion churning in her stomach.

She hated flies as much as she hated Phoebe.

"You're lying!"

Phoebe shrugged, "Believe it or not. Oh, and while I was at it, I also picked my nose and scratched my head. If you don't mind, I might as well give them all to you." Vanessa was speechless.

The doctor entered, noticing the odd expressions on the faces of the two women at the entrance. He greeted Phoebe first, "Mrs. Reynolds, Miss Fitzroy." "It's so late, and yet you've made the trip, doctor. Is it hot outside?" Phoebe warmly asked.

"It's alright; it has cooled down now."

The three of them sat down on the living room sofa. Theodore came out of the bedroom, his wet hair hanging over his forehead, making him look less sharp.

As the doctor began to unwrap Vanessa's bandage, a foul smell hit them. He kept his composure as he examined the wound on her palm, "You can't keep the wound covered all the time; it's gotten smelly." Vanessa glanced at Theodore, embarrassed, fearing his disgust.

"I washed my hair today and dried the bandage with a blow dryer; I thought it would be fine..."

The doctor didn't let her finish, frowning, "You washed your hair and didn't change the bandage or reapply the medication. Do you want the wound to get infected and inflamed?"

Vanessa bit her lip and didn't speak, looking at Theodore with a mix of defiance and plea.

The doctor continued, "Don't take your hand lightly. If it really gets infected and inflamed and the situation gets serious, you might even need an amputation. You're a pianist; you should know how important your hands are to you." Vanessa had actually been tormenting her own hand on purpose. As long as her hand was injured, Theodore would feel bad about asking her to leave. Now, after being reprimanded so bluntly by the doctor, she felt humiliated. "I understand," Vanessa said, her head bowed in shame.

The doctor stopped there, cleaned her palm with hydrogen peroxide, and applied new medication, "It's hot now, and the wound has already scabbed over. You don't need to wrap it anymore."

Vanessa looked down at her palm. It was now riddled with ugly scars, making her feel very uncomfortable.

She had paid such a high price, and yet nothing had changed. She was not willing to accept this!

After the doctor left, Phoebe yawned widely, "It's late, Miss Fitzroy. Get some rest. You'll come back to the company with me tomorrow."

Vanessa was taken aback and looked at Phoebe in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Miss Fitzroy, you've been resting for a few days. Surely you haven't forgotten who you are. If you want to become a Superstar, you have to work hard yourself," Phoebe said.

"But my hand..."

"Don't worry, the activities I've arranged for you lately won't require the use of your precious hands. Trust me; I value your hands more than you do. After all, that's where your value lies," Phoebe stated. Vanessa pursed her lips, her expression turning as dark as a thundercloud.