the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart Chapter 774: She Almost Thought The Man In Front Of Her Was

Ignatius Leclair quietly watched Delphine as she made a phone call, recalling her unusual behavior today. In fact, she had been acting strangely for several days now, giving off a sense of emotional distance—neither too close nor too far. Earlier, when he was caught up in his own troubles, Delphine hadn’t taken the opportunity to put him down, but now that he was safe and sound, the sense of detachnt had beco glaringly obvious.

Ignatius had a fleeting thought pass through his mind. Without saying a word, he went downstairs to buy dication.

Delphine hung up the phone, her smile still lingering on her face, only to see Ignatius walk over and say in a low voice, "Let’s go ho."

After speaking, the man turned and left. He didn’t cling to her like he usually did; in fact, he didn’t even hold her hand. It was almost as if he were a stranger.

Delphine felt confused but also let out a small sigh of relief.

Once they arrived at the villa, Maximilian and Brock Gray were already there. The group went into the study to discuss business, while Delphine went to the bathroom for a shower. When she ca out, she brought Ignatius’s coat into the bathroom, where a small white bottle of pills rolled out of his pocket.

Delphine lowered her gaze, picked up the bottle, and searched the English na on the label online. A string of technical terms ca up; she stared at them for a long ti, finally understanding that the dication was used to suppress emotional outbursts.

She stood there dazed for a mont, then put the bottle back into the coat pocket and hung it up. Her mind was racing. The pills were already half gone; based on the dosage, it seed Ignatius had been taking them for so ti—about a month back.

Delphine walked out of the bedroom, and through the slightly ajar door of the neighboring study, Maximilian’s anxious voice drifted to her ears: "Mr. Leclair, why don’t you go see a psychologist? Your forr therapist is still in the United Kingdom, isn’t he?"

The man erupted in anger. In a frosty tone, he replied, "I’m fine. All of you, leave."

Delphine retreated to the bedroom, hearing Maximilian and the others leaving. She randomly picked up a book from the bedside table, flipping through it, unable to focus on a single word.

Ignatius entered the room. Seeing that she wasn’t asleep, he said in his low voice, "You should sleep first tonight; I still have so work to attend to."

As he spoke, the man reached for the coat he had worn during the day.

Delphine watched as he turned to leave, suddenly throwing the book aside and standing up. Slightly annoyed, she asked, "How long have you been taking that dication?"

The man’s tall and imposing figure froze instantly, his grip on the coat tightening.

Seeing that he didn’t even turn his head, Delphine grew even angrier. She walked over, grabbed the bottle from his coat pocket, and demanded, "Why are you taking these pills? I looked them up—they have side effects if you take too much!"

Ignatius’s phoenix-shaped eyes shifted toward her. His eyes, naturally frad by an inner double eyelid, tilted slightly upward at the corners, appearing deep and enigmatic. Often, his overwhelming aura made people forget the subtle curve in his eyes gave them a trace of innate humor.

Ignatius’s distinct, bony fingers wrapped around hers, pale and smooth like jade. His voice was low, as if it resonated from deep within his chest: "Delphine, is it you’re afraid of, or is it him?"

Delphine’s heart pounded with terror. She stamred, "What nonsense are you talking about?"

"I can feel his presence. He might be waking up," Ignatius said, his phoenix eyes dark and brooding. The tall, slender man took a step back and spoke in a low voice, "From now on, I’ll keep my distance from you. I won’t let him hurt you."

"So you’re taking these pills? Why won’t you see a doctor?" Delphine felt a chilling despair. The doubts that had been lurking in her mind lted away all at once when she saw his frightened, evasive deanor. It was Arshen. For a mont, she almost thought the man before her was Ignatius himself.