Half-Hearted: Mr. Sinclair, Stop the Act!-Chapter 206: Hesitation, the One I Like

After finishing their business, the two got out of the car. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Sienna Monroe reminded him again, "Your arm can’t get wet, remember to be careful when you shower.

Also, the anesthetic should be wearing off soon. If it hurts too much, remember to take painkillers. The doctor said that the first three days are the peak period for infection. Make sure to clean and disinfect the wound. If anything happens, you can call me."

"Okay."

Sebastian Prescott’s gaze met hers squarely, and after a few moments, he responded calmly.

He remembered to ask, "How will you get to the art gallery tomorrow morning?"

"I’ll take a taxi, it’s not too far."

Sienna Monroe didn’t look at him. She entered the elevator, slightly tilted her head back, and watched the numbers jump above the elevator door.

Until the elevator stopped on the 11th floor, she turned her head and met his deep and cold gaze, catching a glimpse of a profound whirlpool within at that moment.

She paused for a moment, then slowly smiled, "I’m going inside. Make sure to remember the wound on your arm and be careful of infection."

Sebastian Prescott nodded slightly, "Okay, rest early, goodnight."

"Alright, you too."

As the elevator doors slowly closed, Sienna Monroe finally exhaled the breath she had been holding in her throat.

Sebastian Prescott returned home, just in time to receive a call from Captain Chaney, asking about the extent of his injuries and wanting to understand the situation.

"That guy is a seasoned pro, knows how to avoid surveillance. We tracked two blocks and lost him. Now we need your client, Sienna Monroe, to provide clues."

"I asked her, you could check her ex-husband, Caleb Sinclair."

Sebastian Prescott’s voice was indifferent as he walked toward the bedroom.

Captain Chaney on the other end was taken aback, somewhat surprised, "Ex-husband? Is this... attempted murder due to a romantic dispute?"

Sebastian Prescott casually tugged his lips, his voice carrying a trace of teasing, "It’s up to you law enforcement to classify the case, we just provide leads."

Captain Chaney felt caught off guard.

"Tsk," he sighed, saying, "I’m just discussing with you, aren’t you being a bit unsociable? However, I’ll need to schedule your client for recording and investigation tomorrow, when will she be available?"

Sebastian Prescott ignored the first part of his sentence, "I need to go to Westwood tomorrow morning, call her to arrange a time."

"Alright."

After hanging up, Sebastian Prescott went into the bathroom. With his arm injured, it wasn’t easy to shower.

At four in the morning, the world was silent.

The silver crescent hanging against the blue curtain was thin and transparent, yet like a blunt knife, slowly slicing through the belly of the night and permeating the darkness.

Sebastian Prescott slowly opened his eyes, seeing a dark reflection inside them.

Feeling unbearably hot and uncomfortable all over, he sat up groggily.

He inadvertently pulled at the wound, causing a subtle frown.

The anesthetic had almost worn off since returning home, and the pain was considerably more pronounced.

He glanced at the time first, then raised his hand to touch his burning forehead.

He had a fever.

His eyebrows knitted tighter; he hadn’t been ill more than twice since childhood, yet this time he was being pampered.

After being stabbed with a knife, he developed a fever by night.

He tugged at his lips, recalling that there was no fever medicine at home, and went out to rummage through the medication he brought back from the hospital today.

None of it was fever medicine.

He stared at the contact list, at the number marked "Sienna Monroe," hesitating for about ten minutes before dialing.

Unexpectedly, the call was answered quickly.

"Hello?"

A clear and gentle voice came through the receiver. He paused slightly, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I’m awake," Sienna Monroe said.

"Why so early?"

"I don’t sleep well, half-asleep and half-awake, had a dream and woke up." Sienna Monroe raised her hand to press her forehead.

Perhaps the events of tonight had drawn out her inner anxieties and unease, making this night even more uncomfortable than when she was drunk.

Before four o’clock, she awoke with a start.

She didn’t quite remember what she dreamed about, but it was chaotic and heavy.

This feeling was unusual, inexplicable.

She returned late last night and slept late, but upon waking, she had no desire to sleep again.

She was leaning against the headboard in a daze, letting her thoughts wander when Sebastian Prescott’s call came unexpectedly.

She was surprised.

But quickly, her thoughts turned to the wound on his arm, thinking something was wrong, she hurriedly answered the call without further shock.

Her reason was somewhat general, she asked him, "What about you? Why are you up so early?"

Sebastian Prescott raised his hand to pinch between his eyebrows, perhaps due to just waking, his voice carried a hint of hoarseness, not like his usual cold and indifferent tone.

"I have a fever."

"Fever?" Sienna Monroe’s eyes widened in surprise, "Did you measure your temperature? How high is it?"

"I didn’t, that’s why I wanted to ask if you have a thermometer and fever medicine."

"I do, let me find them, hold on."

"Alright, no rush, take your time."

After hanging up, Sienna Monroe lifted the blanket and got out of bed, leaving the room.

The habit of preparing common medicines probably came from growing up around Leah Hughes.

This medical kit had been prepped when she moved to The Left Bank Courtyard.

The box was small, but its contents were quite complete.

Fever medicine and a thermometer were among the most common items.

She picked out two suitable medications, grabbed the thermometer, changed her clothes, quickly freshened up, and went to the 15th floor.

Actually, it wasn’t her first time visiting Sebastian Prescott’s home.

But last time she was muddled with drinks, her vision blurry; even though she looked around, she couldn’t recall any details the next day.

As she stepped out of the elevator, a cool, clear atmosphere greeted her.

It gradually matched the vague fragments imprinted in her mind that night.

She walked to the door, ready to raise her hand to ring the bell, when the door opened from the inside.

Sebastian Prescott wore a set of black round-neck loungewear, his deep eyes carrying a difficult-to-discern murkiness.

His voice was hoarse as if it had rolled through gravel, "Thanks for making the trip."

Perhaps due to the fever, what was usually a cold, noble, and somewhat distant face now showed a bit of warmth, as if a tint of blush spread across his eye corners.

His meticulously groomed dark hair now casually and comfortably covered his full forehead.

Giving off a slightly fragile feel.

Sienna Monroe was momentarily speechless, shaking off the inappropriate thoughts from her mind.

Quickly she asked, "How are you? Is it serious? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I’m fine, no need for now."

Sebastian Prescott’s lips moved slightly, "Come inside first."

"Okay."

Sienna Monroe walked in and glanced around at the style of the entire house.

She thought, without even looking at him, just by the decor, she could guess it was his home.

Her lips curled slightly, she gave the thermometer a shake, handed it to him, "Take your temperature first, see how high the fever is."

Sebastian Prescott took it from her, noticed the slight upward curve on her red lips, and asked in confusion, "What are you smiling at?"