Chapter 147

It was as if a pristine ice sculpture had fallen to earth, shattering on impact. Marguerite lowered her gaze, a strange feeling stirring within her. When she'd seen the cold glint of that knife, she hadn't felt fear. But George... wasn't he afraid?

Outside the Sichuan restaurant, Aaron called the police and then Theobald.

Theobald was already home, working on the sofa. He used to work in his study, but after learning that George worked on the sofa, he had tried it and found it surprisingly comfortable.

"What's wrong, Aaron?" Theobald asked. Calling him by his full name felt more natural.

"Theobald, Mr. Spencer got hurt protecting Marguerite. They're on their way to the hospital. You should go see him."

Theobald's cool expression faltered. "What happened?"

Aaron quickly summarized the incident, explaining that they had been attacked by a man with a knife after dinner. The attacker's identity was too complicated to explain in a few words, so he left it out.

Theobald's first thought was, "Is Marguerite okay?"

"Marguerite's fine."

His second thought was, "Marguerite took you to dinner and didn't invite me?"

The nearest hospital was only a kilometer away. This time it wasn't KANYO, but S.S. Hospital, a private facility George had invested in.

The wound was deep, the bone faintly visible. As the doctor cleaned it, George didn't even flinch, though a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead.

The burly bodyguard, however, was a wreck, his face contorted in pain. "Doctor, be gentle! A little gentler, please!" he pleaded. "He's lost so much blood! He'll need a steak the size of a car tire to make that up!"

After cleaning, the wound needed stitches, for which he was given an anesthetic. But the bodyguard was still distraught. "Oh, there there, don't be scared. It'll be over in a minute!"

Marguerite watched the man, wondering if he'd fallen in love with George at first sight. She knew

George wasn't interested in mennet

But she couldn't help her wild

thoughts; a normal good Samaritan would have just dropped them at the hospital. This man, however, had handled the registration, waited in line, and done everything, leaving nothing for her to do. Which was for the best, since she needed to look after Jenny.

Jenny had calmed down considerably, though she was still trembling slightly.

The bodyguard even brought them

both hot water. He was holding a third cup, clearly for George. The hospitat only provided boiling water so he was blowing on it to cool it' down faster. It all felt a bit intimate.

Marguerite had no idea this was all just a desperate attempt to keep his job. Of course, there was some genuine concern for his boss in the mix, but not much.

George was getting annoyed by the bodyguard's fussing. He glanced at him, adjusting his glasses with his left hand. "You can go outside."

The bodyguard lowered his head, placing the now-cooled water beside him. "The water's just right now. Be sure to drink it if you're thirsty!" he said, then obediently

left.

With the bodyguard's chatter gone, the treatment room fell silent, forcing Marguerite's attention back to the doctor stitching the wound The man's forearm was pale, now marred by a five or six centimeter gash. It was a painful sight. He hadn't even fully healed from his last minor injury, and now he had this.

"Will this leave a scar?" Marguerite asked the doctor. The thought that this model-

perfect man would be flawed because of her was... unbelievable.

"It's hard to say," the doctor replied without pausing. "With proper care and scar cream later on, it might not."

"What's proper care?" Marguerite asked intently.

"Avoid strenuous activity at first, keep it dry to prevent infection. Later, when the scab forms, don't pick at it. You can gently massage the area to promote blood circulation."

Marguerite committed it all to memory. "Okay, I understand."

Behind his glasses, George's eyes were fixed on her, his breathing shallow. She's worried about him.

This little injury, he thought, was worth it.