His deep eyes fell on her pale face: "Right, didn't you wish for my death? You die first then...wouldn't I be free and easy?"
"If you have the guts, get better and then deal with me."
With that, he walked over, reached out and touched her forehead with his finger bearing an expensive and luxurious gemstone ring.
"It is indeed a bit hot."
No, her forehead is very hot...
Eva Nightingale seemed to have fainted again from the fever, completely unable to respond to him, her consciousness hazy.
Arthur Easton glanced at the doctor displeased, urging him to heal her quickly, while privately shocked, wondering why he was so anxious over a hostage's fever.
Adults all know that a high fever of 40 degrees means something...
The subordinates probably couldn't guess that he would have someone come to treat her...
"Make sure she is healed." The man said furiously, withdrawing his hand, and stormed out the door.
A chill left the room, making Eva Nightingale even hotter.
