NovelBookChapter 452: Hadley was completely thrown off.
What was Eric doing here? And why did he sound like that—like he had every right to be standing in front of her, scolding her? What was with that entitled attitude? She had met plenty of wealthy heirs-Ernest wasn't like this. Neither was Denver.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtA faint, incredulous laugh slipped past her lips. Was his bad temper reserved just for her? Still, whatever his attitude, one fact remained-he had saved her. She couldn't ignore that. Steadying herself, she attempted to break free from his grip. "Listen... thank you for earlier." "What do you think you're doing?" Eric's hand tightened around her waist, anchoring her in place, his lips curling into a faintly mocking smirk. "Are you seriously trying to pushaway? Can you even stand on your own right now?" Hadley faltered, her breath catching.
Probably not.
"Why are you looking atlike that?" he asked. "It's not like I'm the one who slipped you something." Hadley froze, her body rigid.
Your next story begins at .He heard everything? He knew what Wilma had done to her? When did he even show up? "Enough of this." Before Hadley could gather her thoughts, Eric let out a sigh and effortlessly scooped her up into his arms.
"I've already started dealing with this mess, so I might as well see it through. Where's your room?" Was he seriously this considerate? She wanted to doubt him, but she was too weak to resist. Reluctantly, she mumbled her room number. "Sorry to trouble you," she whispered.
Eric didn't even hesitate. "As long as you realize it's trouble."
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHe set her down at the door, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the key card. The door clicked open, and justas she thought she might finally regain sautonomy, he scooped her up again and carried her inside like it was standard procedure.
She barely had tto process it before he crossed the room in a few long strides and lowered her onto the bed. He even adjusted her hair so it wouldn't bother her, smoothing the strands with quiet patience. Then, he pulled the blanket over her, tucking it in just enough to keep her comfortable.
But he didn't leave after all that.
Instead, he remained by the bedside, arms crossed, his sharp eyes locked onto her face, studying every flicker of emotion. He frowned. "How are you feeling?"
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