"Then why did you just say you wanted to have ten wives?"
"I was just using that as a taphor, I only want to take care of you, where would ten wives co from."
Harry Hunter felt both hurt and helpless, yet he couldn’t bring himself to scold her.
Never mind, what’s wrong with her being a little spoiled?
Wasn’t it all because he pampered her?
When he ca down from the helicopter, the scene he saw was enough to break his heart.
In that strange, dilapidated, old villa, surrounded by so many bodyguards, she wore clothes that didn’t fit, her hair was a ss, face pale as she curled up in the corner of the bathroom, stubbornly clutching a piece of broken glass, tightly holding onto Rose Parker to protect herself.
He felt heartbroken to death.
He wanted to send all who bullied her straight to Hell!
Harry Hunter, eyes red, gently opened her hand, revealing a bloodstained ss.
"Bleeding so much, why didn’t you scream in pain!"
Harry Hunter was sweating slightly out of urgency: "Let’s go to the hospital!"
Isabella Weaver leaned against his chest, whispered: "No need, it’s probably not mine, it’s Rose Parker’s blood."
Harry Hunter wiped her hand, cleared away the bloodstains, revealing a shallow cut.
She had held the glass shard too tightly, causing it.
Harry Hunter breathed a sigh of relief, fortunately, it was quite mild.
The helicopter soon landed in his villa, Harry Hunter carried Isabella Weaver down, directly taking her to the bathroom.
"Soak in a hot bath, I’ll wash your hair for you."
Harry Hunter ran the hot water, undressed her, and carried her in.
Having cried previously, the fear and grievance had passed, Isabella Weaver’s emotions settled back to normal, her voice low: "I can wash myself, I’m not a child..."
Harry Hunter: "Lie down, let ."
He rolled up his shirt sleeves, sat on the edge of the bathtub, clumsily washing Isabella’s hair.
After a full half hour, he finally finished washing her hair, and despite Isabella’s objection, continued to bathe her.
Isabella watched his handso face, tender actions, her eyes slightly red.
She hugged Harry Hunter, suppressing her surging emotions, softly said: "Your clothes are all wet."
"Doesn’t matter."
Harry Hunter lifted her from the bathtub, took a white towel to wipe her body.
Isabella still wouldn’t let go of him: "You ca so quickly, I thought after calling the police, I would have to wait a long ti."
"It was still too slow."
Harry Hunter wiped her body, then dried her hair.
He was afraid it would take too long, hence using the helicopter, as who knows when the police cars would arrive, the place was too remote and far away.
He kissed Isabella Weaver’s full, smooth forehead, praised her: "My dear Isabella is amazing, fortunately you called the police, otherwise I would have taken much longer finding you."
"Rose Parker’s phone ran out of balance, could only make ergency calls, otherwise I would have called you directly."
"Mm."
Harry Hunter had already guessed the reason, he carried Isabella Weaver to the bedroom, turned to leave, Isabella sat at the bedside wrapped in a large towel, asked urgently: "Where are you going again? You suddenly disappeared in the morning, when I woke up at seven, I didn’t see you! You ca back after eight!"
Harry Hunter returned, half-kneeled in front of her: "Baby, you’re getting clingier..."
"You don’t like it?"
"I adore it."
Harry Hunter lovingly stroked her face: "But now I need to change clothes, then make you a cup of cold dicine, while fetching the hairdryer to dry your hair, will you let go now, baby?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)