"What?" Angel exclaimed, taken aback by Arthur's statement.
She observed him lift his hands to gently cup her cheeks, his eyes filled with worry as he gazed at her.
"Look at me, Angel. Everything I'm doing is for your well-being. You can't predict what might happen if this carries on. Moreover, taking these steps will help guarantee that you and your baby are in a better situation. Tryson isn't suitable for you," Arthur counseled, leaving Angel speechless.
She was baffled, unable to grasp how she would handle this situation.
Without speaking, she listened as Arthur took a deep breath and suggested, "Why don't we go on a date?"
"But Arthur—" Angel began to protest, but he gently silenced her by placing a finger on her lips.
He then reached out to her hand and then gently wrapped it around his and then he said; "We can explain everything then. Besides, you look like you're not in the mood and have been stressed out. So let me relief it, okay?"
Arthur calmly stated, and then without any other choice, she nodded.
Shortly after, both of them exited the company's premises.
With Arthur's bodyguards escorting Angel, they climbed into their vehicle, and moments later, they were heading out through the estate's gate, where a crowd of reporters eagerly awaited Angel's appearance.
"Is everything alright?" Arthur inquired, reaching out towards Angel on the table while they were being served by a waitress.
Angel looked at Arthur, speechless, before she shook her head, dismissing the thought.
"It's nothing," she whispered, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear as she looked down at the menu on the table.
"I'll have this," Angel mentioned to the waitress, indicating her choice of meal.
Just as she made her decision, she suddenly sensed Arthur's hand gently resting on her, prompting her to turn her head toward him.
A frown appeared on her face.
"Sweetheart, how about choosing something different?" Arthur suggested softly.
Angel's frown grew even more pronounced, and then, in the very next moment, she observed Arthur altering the order she had specifically requested.
Rendered speechless, she found herself unable to utter a word, but as soon as the waitress exited the room, she finally expressed her thoughts.
"What was the meaning of that, Arthur?" she asked him softly.
"What do you mean, Angel? I'm just trying to take care of you, you can't just eat that kind of food," Arthur responded in a calm manner.
"But I really had a craving for that dish," she insisted.
"Forget about that craving, Angel. What I picked is a healthier choice for you, and besides, you can't just select any random dish from the menu. What if you end up feeling sick right in front of the waiter?"
"Arthur, this isn't the first occasion I've had the pleasure of savoring that dish, which is precisely why I asked for it. Furthermore, are you even aware of how intensely I was yearning for it?"
Arthur found himself at a loss for words, yet Angel could perceive that he was on the brink of responding with a retort he was holding back.
Instead, she observed him with a smile gracing his lips. "Listen, Angel. Why don't you just disregard those pregnancy symptoms of yours? After all, if you keep reacting to those feelings, you'll merely squander money."
She found it hard to believe Arthur's words.
She was on the verge of shouting at him but restrained herself. Taking a deep breath, she bit her lower lip and then managed to force a smile.
"Alright then, if that's what you want," she managed to reply with some effort.
Arthur gently took hold of her hand, prompting Angel to lift her eyes and meet his gaze.
Their eyes connected, and he began to speak, "You know, I mentioned before that—" However, Arthur was interrupted as they both heard the door to the room creak open.
In the following instant, she observed a waitress enter the room carrying a bottle of luxurious champagne.
Shortly thereafter, another waitress appeared, holding a ball of confetti and enthusiastically tossing it into the air.
Angel was taken aback yet simultaneously thrilled. She lifted her hand to cover her lips, casting a glance towards Arthur.
"Congratulations, Angel. Thanks to your efforts, our company has been thriving over the past few months. Once again, you've propelled us into the spotlight of the top magazine, and—" Arthur was on the verge of continuing when his phone started ringing.
He cast his eyes downward, focusing intently on the phone resting on the table.
"Hmm, I apologize, but I really need to take this call," Arthur said with a tone of regret as he excused himself, rising from his seat to answer the call.
Angel's expression instantly faded to disappointment; what was the point of taking a call if the intention was for this outing to be solely about their time together?
In a matter of minutes after Arthur answered the call, Angel found herself asking the waitress to leave the champagne on the table, leaving her alone in the room.
Shortly after, the waitress who had taken their order entered the room with the meals.
As soon as the meal was placed before Angel, a sudden wave of nausea washed over her. She pressed her hand to her mouth, unable to bear the overpowering scent, and rose from her seat, feeling utterly exhausted.
The atmosphere was unbearable for her to endure any longer.
She reached for her phone, intending to call Arthur, but realized he was occupied.
Without any ulterior motives, Angel opened the door to their room, intending to go to the bathroom, but she was taken aback and startled when she encountered the imposing figure before her.
His complexion was as fair as milk, dressed in business attire, and his hazel eyes fixed on her. With a hint of concern, he asked, "Are you alright, Angel?" Tryson inquired.
Angel blinked, but she quickly hurried off, trying to escape the overpowering aroma. As she moved away, Tryson turned to watch her go, but suddenly, Angel fainted.
"Angel," Tryson exclaimed, rushing to catch her.