Remarried Wife: Mr. Ex, We Will Never Reconcile!-Chapter 80: The Red Bound and Confined Within a Red Cord
Nurse Tang watched in shock as President Kane crushed the lit cigarette in his hand with murder in his eyes, feeling a chill in her heart.
This domineering president was famously devoted to his wife, a supreme romantic, a pure love warrior. If anything happened to the lady, wouldn’t he drag her to the grave with him?
Faced with the man striding over, she timidly said, "Pre-President Kane, the lady has developed a post-surgery infection."
Ian’s lips were tightly pursed, his expression icy, and his tall figure quickly disappeared around the corner.
Inside the hospital room, the doctor had just examined the newly awoken Vera Sheridan, measuring her temperature at 39 degrees, with some minor bleeding.
Her lips were pale, and her teeth chattered from the cold.
When Ian arrived, he listened to the doctor’s report, nodded, and walked toward the bed.
Seeing him, Vera gritted her teeth.
Ian poured a cup of warm water, walked to the bedside, and helped her sit up, "Honey, drink some warm water."
Seeing his calm demeanor, Vera vaguely sensed that Maeve hadn’t yet confronted him.
She remained composed and asked blandly, "Did you put sleeping pills in my water before?"
Before the egg retrieval operation, she could have delayed, but after drinking the water, she quickly fell asleep. Now thinking back on it, he must have tampered with it.
Ian frowned, "I was worried about your fear of the surgery and quietly gave you sleeping pills."
His tone was matter-of-fact, with no sense of having violated her.
With a twinge of pain in her abdomen, coldness surged through her bones, and she instinctively curled up, closing her eyes, "When will the embryo be implanted?"
Ian’s jaw tightened, and he said flatly, "The eggs aren’t qualified, we’ll have to wait."
At his words, Vera felt a secret joy.
It was fate.
Suppressing her emotions, she drank the warm water in large gulps.
Ian put down the cup, helped her lie back, and said in a warm voice, "Hungry? I’ll have someone bring food over."
Facing his gentle gaze, Vera replied, "Mm."
At that moment, his phone rang.
Vera clearly saw the words "Serena" on the screen.
Ian answered in front of her.
From the other end came Serena Everett’s broken sobs, "Kane... I... Evan drugged me..."
Vera clearly heard her words and saw Ian’s long fingers tighten around the phone, his face turning dark.
Without saying a word, he hung up and looked at her, "Honey, Serena’s in some trouble. I’m going over there."
Ha, going to be the antidote? Vera sneered inside and asked deliberately, "She was bullied by Evan, and you’re going to rescue her? Was there no one else?"
Ian remained expressionless, "I treat her like a sister, and besides, Uncle Warren saved my life when I was a child."
Vera continued to feign ignorance, "Then you should go quickly."
Ian tucked her in and then got up, striding briskly out of the ward.
As the door closed, Vera also closed her eyes and wrapped herself tightly in the blanket.
After she fell into a muddled sleep, someone opened the door to the hospital room.
Black Oxford shoes tapped lightly and steadily on the cream-colored tiles as Noah Grant walked slowly to the bedside.
She lay among the white, her jet-black hair spread like ink, her palm-sized oval face showing a sickly pallor.
An IV was inserted in the back of her right hand.
So fragile, it seemed she could break with a touch.
Noah stood quietly watching her, his fists clenching tighter and tighter, recalling her in the past—resilient, confident, graceful.
His eyes reddened, and there was a violent aura around him.
He strode out of the ward and made a phone call, "Release the news about Ian Kane’s malicious acquisition targeting the Kane Group’s stock, under investigation by the securities commission."
After hanging up, Old Man Zane, the butler from The Grant Residence, came over with a food box, "Second Master, here are the meals you requested."
As he spoke, he sneaked a glance into the hospital room, vaguely seeing a woman through the gap in the door.
Old Man Zane was a bit surprised but quickly delighted.
This young master of his was almost thirty and had never had a girlfriend before.
Is the iron tree finally blossoming?
Noah noticed Old Man Zane’s small gesture but didn’t explain, accepting the meal box with thanks before re-entering the hospital room.
Vera’s lips moved slightly, her brow furrowed with a hint of unease, "I want some water... Mom..."
Noah set down the food box, poured a cup of water, sat by the bedside, and helped her sit up to bring the cup to her lips.
"Vera, open your mouth." As soon as he spoke, he realized how unusually hoarse his voice was.
In a daze, Vera’s dry lips touched the warm water, and she instinctively opened her mouth, sucking and swallowing constantly.
Her slender body leaned against his broad mature chest, the thin silk fabric separating them as her scorching temperature burnt against his exposed wrist.
The room seemed to warm up by several degrees.
After Vera drank most of the water, she moved away from the cup and lazily leaned into his chest, "Sleepy..."
Noah looked down at his chest, the figure in a pearl white nightgown resembling a cat cuddled in his arms, her hand tightly gripping his tie.
Her lips, having just drunk water, were rosily moist, like roses just kissed by dew. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂
In the next moment, he noticed her nightgown was damp, clinging to her skin, half-revealing her cold white flesh.
His eyes darkened, but he quickly looked away, his vision once again colliding with the enchanting rose red.
—The red ensnared in a rope.
...
Vera woke up.
Her consciousness gradually cleared, a slight sting on her lips, carrying a familiar yet strange male scent.
Just like in the dream.
Vera opened her eyelids.
In the warm yellow light of dusk, against the white wall, sat a man in a chair, half in light, half in shadow, dressed in a suit, pants pressed perfectly below the knee, and wearing black leather shoes.
Her gaze drifted to his face hidden in the dusky light, with deep-set features and a noble, mature masculine aura.
It was Noah Grant.
He sat erect, cool and distant, exuding an untouchable sanctity.
Vera was briefly confused, thinking she might have misidentified, recalling the foggy memories from before.
The kiss that seemed both real and illusory.
