Chapter 897

Thirty minutes later, Armand carried Genevieve out of the shower stall. At that time, the bathtub was
already filled with water.

He placed her gently in the bathtub.

Though Genevieve's arm was feeling slightly sore, she remembered the promise she had made earlier.
She went to Armand's back, got to her knees, squeezed some shower gel onto his back, and began
rubbing it.

The restlessness in Armand's heart returned when he felt her soft hands rubbing against his back.

Suddenly, he let out a chuckle.

Genevieve poked his back and raised a brow, asking, “What are you laughing at? Is it because of my
amazing service?”

Armand said, “I thought of the time when you first took off your clothes in front of me.”

Genevieve froze for a few seconds before remembering the incident he was referring to.

That was the time when she wanted to help him shower, to thank him for bailing her out of the police
station. However, he rejected her offer.

With that memory playing in her mind, she lowered her head and bit Armand on his shoulder. “You
obviously wanted to bed me that time. Yet, you had to humiliate me. If you were more brutal back then,
you wouldn't have me as your wife today.”



“I just didn't want you to think of other men while hugging me. I'll get jealous,” said Armand.

Genevieve raised a brow, feeling a lot better after hearing that.

When she was done with his back, she scooted to the front. Her knees hurt a little from kneeling on the
porcelain bathtub. Hence, Armand let her sit on his thighs.

As she used the showerhead to wash away the foam on his chest, she saw the horizontal scar near his
heart.

Coincidentally, it split the Genevieve Orsi tattoo into half.

Genevieve's smile faded, and she traced the scar. “Why does it look so dark? Why didn't you go for a
scar removal surgery?”

Armand answered, “I don't want to. If I went for a scar removal surgery, the tattoo you like will be gone.
Besides, I can't simply get tattoos on this area ever since I had the heart transplant surgery.”

“Then so be it. The scar looks so horrible here,” Genevieve mumbled, staring at the scar.

“It's fine. You're the only one who sees it, anyway.”

He's got scars from the gunshot wounds on his back and his chest. And now, there's another one from
the heart transplant. He's so young, yet he's covered in scars.

Genevieve's nose stung. She felt bad for the pain her lover had gone through.



She lowered her head and gently kissed the scar near his heart. She did that repeatedly, pouring her
affection on him.

Armand, on the other hand, felt a burning sensation in the area where she kissed. He called out
hoarsely, “Darling—”

Genevieve held his face and pressed her forehead against his. “Don't call me darling all the time. Use
something else. You can call me Babe, Sweetie, or Wifey. I like these better.”

However, Armand could not bring himself to use something else, for he was too used to calling her
“Darling.”

However, Genevieve did not like his old-fashioned ways. She insisted, “Isn't it normal to give your wife
a more intimate form of address? There's no need to be so shy. Hurry up. Call me Sweetie.”

Seeing Armand unwilling to do as she wished, she threatened, “You're not going to say it, aren't you?”
Genevieve loosened her grip, looking as if she was about to leave.

Armand quickly pulled her back and said, “Sweetie.”

He felt slightly restless, which made his voice a little hoarse. Regardless, Genevieve found it rather
attractive, and she smirked. “Beg me to stay, then.”

Armand was stumped. Since when did she learn to bully me?



He pulled her into his embrace and fixed a lustful gaze on her. “I'm begging you, Sweetie. Please stay.”

Genevieve smiled sweetly and planted a kiss on his cheeks.

It was already eight o'clock by the time they stepped out of the bathroom. Armand had no time to
continue coaxing Genevieve. So, he placed her on the bed and went downstairs to get breakfast
prepared.

Genevieve stayed in bed for a little while before getting up at eight-thirty to wash up.

When she arrived downstairs, the two children were already up and having their breakfast at the table.
Meanwhile, Asel was sitting in the baby chair and enjoying her bottle of milk.

Genevieve scanned the living room and asked Lucian, “Where's your dad?”

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