35

"Where are you going?" Andrew sat up straight, looking at her.

"Asher is crying; I'll go check on him," Isabella said urgently, her tone accompanied by light panting, and her chest heaving.

"Going like this?" Andrew raised his lips, revealing a hint of mischief. His heated gaze focused on her chest.

She exclaimed, hastily fumbling to fasten her bra. Her face turned red once again.

Before she could take a step after fixing her clothes, he pulled her back onto the sofa.

"What are you doing? I need to comfort Asher," Isabella glared at him discontentedly.

Andrew faintly curved his lips, his smile subtle but elegant. "How do you comfort Asher? Can you even feed him? You don't know how many milliliters of milk he drinks or how many scoops of formula, do you?"

She was stunned by his question, glaring at him fiercely.

She knew she hadn't fulfilled her motherly duties, but it wasn't her fault; the real culprit was the man in front of her.

"I don't know how much formula Asher drinks, but the f