Daisy was not angry, in fact, she wore a gentle expression, her beautiful face smiling pleasantly.
She said, "Right now, you’re the one who’s sick. My blood flows through your veins, so you’re mine. What’s wrong with asking my man not to accept things from other women?"
Edward Stephens was so infuriated by Daisy’s shameless words that he laughed out loud.
He asked Daisy, "So, according to you, if I want to settle things with you, I have to return the blood?"
Daisy looked at him, pressing her lips together, as his tone wasn’t very happy.
She came to the hospital to visit Edward Stephens, not to quarrel with him.
The words she said earlier were just because she saw Emily Ginger in his ward feeding him chicken soup, and she was jealous and intentionally provoked him.
Daisy: "I didn’t mean that."
Edward Stephens stared at her for a while.
He had eyes much deeper than ordinary people. When he looked at someone, he seemed to be incredibly affectionate, and given his noble and handsome appearance, even if there was nothing on his mind, a girl could easily be moved.
Daisy’s heart fluttered slightly under his gaze, then she heard the man let out a low chuckle and softly say to her, "But Daisy, I don’t like owing you favors."
Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Edward Stephens pull out a thin fruit knife from who knows where, gazing at her with those beautiful eyes, then without hesitation, he sliced it across the back of his hand—
She screamed in fright, instinctively reaching out to grab the blade, the palm of her hand getting cut. She squeezed tightly, not letting Edward Stephens hurt himself.
Her heart pounded violently, nearly bursting her eardrums, she couldn’t even feel the pain from the wound on her hand.
Daisy’s beautiful eyes widened slightly, looking at the man in front of her, his face calm to the point of cruelty.
If he made another wound, he might not survive.
Daisy looked at him blankly for a moment, unable to discern whether her wildly beating heart was due to fear or heartache, her hand gripping the blade trembling slightly.
"Why..." After a while, she couldn’t help but ask in a low voice, "Edward Stephens, weren’t you the one who told me to wait for you..."
Why, when I waited, would you hurt me ?
Hurting her in front of her?
Weren’t you the one who cherished me the most before?
Even for a small wound, you couldn’t bear to let me bleed, and now my palm is covered in blood, why are you indifferent now?
Knowing full well she couldn’t get an answer from the man, she still couldn’t help but want to ask.
Feeling unbearably wronged inside, yet not a tear could escape her eyes, she just stared blankly at the familiar face of the man.
If he wasn’t Edward Stephens, if he didn’t have this face identical to Edward Stephens’, it would be better, no one else could make her sad, no one else had the right to make her sad.
Edward Stephens frowned slightly: "What nonsense are you spouting again?"
Daisy pressed her lips together slightly and silently pulled the fruit knife from the man’s palm, throwing it with the blood into the trash can.
The wound continued to bleed, she expressionlessly stretched out her hand and smeared the blood all over the man’s hospital gown, then said, "I’m leaving."
Edward Stephens looked at Daisy’s departing figure, then glanced disdainfully at his blood-stained clothes, unable to help but curse, "Crazy woman."
In all his years, he had never seen someone as wildly deranged as Daisy.