Christopher Hart’s wound on his right shoulder was severe, and there hadn’t been a chance to properly treat it.
Alia, in her panic and fear, hadn’t held back her strength; the few forceful shoves had made Christopher feel as if his entire right arm was about to slip out of its joint.
A cold sweat broke out all over his body. He hung his head low, then lifted his eyes to stare at the woman cowering at the head of the bed, wishing he could just strangle her to death!
Alia caught a glimpse of his dark and intimidating gaze and imdiately felt a chill run down her spine.
Seeing his agony, his left hand constantly clutching his right shoulder, she realized—his right shoulder must have been injured.
But when they had left the hospital that morning, he had been fine. How could it be that by the afternoon, his right arm was hanging across his chest?
After a mont of contemplation, she had an epiphany.
"Your... your right arm, was it injured when you saved Lily?" she asked tentatively, still tightly clutching the blanket to hide herself.
Christopher took slow breaths, waiting for the pain to subside gradually. His handso face finally lifted slightly.
"If my arm is rendered useless, you’ll never be allowed to leave for the rest of your life."
He spat out the sentence through gritted teeth, devoid of any other thoughts, then swung his long legs off the bed and walked out.
On the large bed, Alia also let out a sigh of relief and slumped, her shoulders drooping as she leaned against the headboard’s cushion.
Downstairs, Fuller saw Christopher coming out with a very pale face, his left hand still clutching his right shoulder, and quickly stepped forward.
"Mr. Hart, your arm..."
"Get a doctor here."
"Right away!"
Fuller hurried to make the call and then raced off personally to pick up the doctor.
Christopher sat on the living room sofa, the throbbing pain in his arm furrowing his brow.
His eyes closed, reclining against the sofa. He couldn’t banish the intimate images that had just transpired from his mind.
More than four years had passed, and he thought he had long forgotten that woman.
Yet he hadn’t expected that a single kiss, a mont of closeness, could awaken all the mories harbored in his body.
He had to admit what Benny Palr had said—despite hating her, despite knowing she was two-faced and cunning, the deepest parts of his heart still held traces of her.
This love, rooted in his youthful days, would be impossible to uproot completely in this lifeti.
Alia rested on the bed for a while, and seeing that Christopher didn’t return, she imdiately got up, intending to escape.
However, the mont she opened the door, the bodyguard in the hallway turned around promptly.
"Miss Norton, may I help you with sothing?"
She paused for a second, then turned back into the room.
She checked the balcony, it wasn’t too high from the second floor—a jump wouldn’t kill her.
But the problem was, there were also bodyguards in the courtyard.
This bastard! How many bodyguards had he planted in his ho?
Pacing back and forth in the room, she thought about Hope’s disappearance; she couldn’t help but worry and grabbed her phone to call Kane.
But before she could dial out, the door was pushed open.
She looked up to see the usual butler who followed Hope around.
She rembered her na—Aunt Harper.
"Miss Norton, Mr. Hart has said that from now on, you can’t have any contact with the outside world until Miss Hope is found."
As the words fell, before Alia could respond, Aunt Harper turned and gestured, and a bodyguard stepped forward and snatched the phone right out of her hand.
"Hey, you—"
Alia chased after them, and Aunt Harper turned around again, her tone strictly professional, "If Miss Norton has sothing to say, she can go directly to Mr. Hart."
Go to him?
She’d rather stew in her room.
"Never mind, I have nothing to say to him!"
Aunt Harper smiled politely and said, "I will bring dinner up for you later."
Alia didn’t respond and sat down on the bed.
Aunt Harper took her phone downstairs and handed it to Christopher Hart.
"Sir, Miss Norton refuses to co down."
"Let her be."
Having just finished a shoulder realignnt massage, Christopher’s right arm was slung across his chest once again.
He took out her mobile phone with his left hand and looked at it, pressing the ho button with his thumb. Unsurprisingly, the screen was locked with a password.
The screensaver showed a picture of footsteps on a beach, looking like a pair of large footprints with two sets of smaller footprints...
He frowned, staring at the screensaver for a good while.
The sound of thudding footsteps ca from the staircase. Without turning his head, the man knew who it was and his lips twitched.
"Give back my phone!" Alia rushed over and snatched her phone back.
Christopher didn’t stop her, but simply leaned back against the sofa, looking up at her indifferently, "I thought you were absolutely not coming down."
Holding the phone, Alia’s heart raced.
She didn’t want to co down, didn’t want to see him, and even less to talk to him!
But the sudden realization that the phone contained photos of the children and chat histories with many friends, all involving the kids, scared her so much her heart skipped a beat, prompting her to dash downstairs!
Luckily, the screen was locked and hadn’t been opened. He probably hadn’t seen it.
At most, he might have seen the three sets of footprints on the screensaver.
But such an image is similar to the automatically updating screensaver patterns in magazines. He shouldn’t be suspicious.
"Christopher, how long do you plan to hold here? This is illegal!"
The man stood up, ignoring her, and walked toward the dining room, "Since you’re down here, co have dinner, to save the servants the trouble of bringing it up to you."
"Dinner? I’m not in the mood!"
"I am, and you’re joining ."
"Eat your sister!" Blazing with rage, Alia couldn’t help but curse out loud.
Christopher looked up at her and smiled, "I’m the one confining you; what does my sister have to do with it? Stop making a fuss, co over here and help with the food."
Compared to Alia’s frantic breakdown, President Hart was the epito of calm and elegance.
Seeing his unaffected deanor, she quickly realized—
The more agitated, irritable, and angry she got, the happier and more smug this bastard was!
Clenching her fists, she took a deep breath and imdiately composed herself, forcing a smile on her face.
"Sure! What would you like to eat?"
She stepped forward, didn’t even sit down, and picked up the chopsticks.
The smile at the corner of the man’s mouth deepened as his eyes swept over the array of delicacies, "Start with a piece of sirloin steak."
"Alright, sirloin steak..." With a radiant smile, she leaned forward and grabbed a hefty chopstick-full of sirloin, "President Hart’s right hand is injured and it’s inconvenient for his left hand, so let feed you directly instead!"
Feed him?
Christopher was taken aback.
However, upon noticing the cunning glint in the woman’s eyes, he imdiately understood.
This little thing was out for revenge!
Before Alia could finish speaking, the chopsticks were already heading straight for the man’s mouth.
Worried he might dodge, she preemptively grabbed his chin with her other hand to stabilize it, then rudely stuffed the chunk of sirloin into his mouth!
Eat! Keep eating! Enjoy your fill!
Aunt Harper and the others serving around were all shocked speechless at the scene.
This...
Christopher, with a mouthful of food, looked at her like an idiot.
"How about that, President Hart? Are you satisfied with my service?"
Alia dropped her hand and stood by his side, her delicate and pretty face beaming with a touch of triumph, as she taunted again.
But she forgot the dangerous nature of this man.
The mont he rose to his feet without a word, the mont she realized things were going badly, the mont she turned to flee, the man grabbed her—
Even before she could face him properly, with the sheer strength of one hand, he easily twisted her neck around, and in a contorted and reversed position, he pressed his mouth filled with food onto hers.
"Good things should be shared, don’t you agree, Miss Norton?"
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