Chapter 2368 - 2377: What Kind of Logic Is That?
Chapter 2368: Chapter 2377: What Kind of Logic Is That?
She hadn’t intended to care but couldn’t help glancing towards the sofa.
With just one glance, she was startled and quickly jogged over to the sofa.
The man’s face on the sofa was ashen, his forehead covered in cold sweat, clutching his stomach, eyes tightly shut, and thin lips pressed into a straight line.
Enna Clark hurriedly put down the water cup, squatted in front of him, and pushed his shoulder, "Baron Lawrence, what’s wrong with you? Where do you feel unwell?"
"Is it your stomach?"
She frowned, looked around, saw no sign of Scott Harris, and felt both anxious and angry.
"Where is Mr. Harris?"
She was anxious because he looked like he was in terrible stomach pain. Angry because he had the nerve to drink alcohol — she hadn’t caused this to happen to him.
Enna found the stomach medicine he had left on the coffee table, opened the cap, took out two pills, and patted the man with closed eyes, "Baron Lawrence, wake up, take a pill first."
The man with closed eyes had tightly furrowed brows, his handsome face covered in beads of sweat, completely unresponsive.
Enna called him for a long time, but he didn’t open his eyes. She was out of options and, disregarding anything else, placed the capsules on the table, stood up, and said, "I’m going to make a call."
She quickly ran to the place in the living room where the internal phone was and called Baron’s personal doctor, urging the doctor to come quickly.
Back again, she squatted in front of him, followed the doctor’s instructions to find a towel, wet it with water, and began to wipe away the sweat on his body.
Only upon wiping did she realize how much there was, which startled her.
Not only was his back sweaty, but the sweat was nearly soaking through his clothes.
She couldn’t imagine how much pain he was in to be sweating so much.
Enna felt even more constricted in her heart, besides being anxious and worried, there was also a suppressed anger.
He lied about going out with another woman to a hotel, and there were photos to prove it. She hadn’t even said anything about it, and he self-destructively drank so much, causing himself stomach pain... What logic was that?
The more Enna thought about it, the angrier she became, increasingly unable to comprehend as she thought, unconsciously squeezing his waist with force.
"Ugh!"
The person with tightly closed eyes suddenly groaned, frowning even more.
Enna wanted to throw the towel on his face and ignore him, but seeing his pale, sickly appearance, thinking of the injury on his shoulder, she just couldn’t bring herself to leave him.
With a stern face, she wiped his entire body. Just as she stood up, prepared to change the towel and wipe him again,
suddenly, her wrist was tightly grabbed by someone.
"Don’t go."
Enna paused, saying, "Let go first, I’ll get you a clean towel, I’ll be right back."
As she spoke, she tried to pry his hand off.
However, the man’s large hand was like a vise, holding her tightly, giving her no chance to break free.
Feeling stuck, unable to move, frustration welled up in her chest once more, so instead of trying to pull away, she shouted, "Baron Lawrence, let go!"
It was as if something in what she said triggered him; the man who had kept his eyes tightly shut suddenly opened them. Those beautiful eyes, like obsidian, were now completely bloodshot, deep and inscrutable, making it impossible to discern if he was drunk or sober.
Enna was momentarily stunned by his gaze.
Before she could react, in a dizzying turn of events, she found herself pinned down on the sofa—