Eleanor Sterling had no idea how much time had passed; she felt the air thinning, and finally came to her senses.
This time, she didn’t hesitate and tried to push Alaric Faulkner off, but found herself pinned down, unable to move.
However, the man did lift his lips from hers, hovering above her, looking down at her.
"Alaric Faulkner, I told you to get up!"
Eleanor’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she was a bit annoyed.
Alaric reached out to touch her lips, swollen from his kiss, "Saying one thing and meaning another, you clearly enjoy kissing me."
Eleanor gritted her teeth; how could she enjoy it!
It was clearly because she couldn’t escape.
She took several deep breaths, persuading herself not to stoop to his level.
Nonetheless, she had to admit she was indulging him, which is why he succeeded again and again.
Unexpectedly, she wanted to keep her distance from Alaric Faulkner, yet she ended up becoming like prey, stepping into the trap he set for her.
By the time she wanted to escape, she found there was nowhere to run.
Alaric Faulkner had a 50% chance of being her son’s biological father, with the other 50% lying with Jasper Faulkner.
Thinking about this chaotic relationship gave Eleanor a headache, making her feel like banging her head against the wall.
At this moment, Alaric seemed to use all his strength and, after taking a deep breath, fell sideways onto the bed.
His handsome face was frighteningly pale, slightly contorted.
Clearly, his wound had not only come apart but was bleeding; he was in pain.
Freed, Eleanor swiftly stood up, sneering, "Serves you right, it hurts to death."
Alaric forced a smile, "If I die, you’ll be a widow. So I can’t die yet."
Eleanor shot him a glare; even now, his mouth couldn’t stop provoking.
Looking at the large red bloodstains on him, Eleanor’s heart moved; she stepped forward to turn him over, making him lie down so she could remove his clothing.
With hair gone, blood is not impossible to manage.
Alaric knew she wanted to look at his wound, so he obediently lay still, letting her handle him.
After unwrapping the bandage, Eleanor indeed saw his wound had split open, with blood constantly oozing out.
She grit her teeth; dog of a man, tormenting himself , might as well die.
"Your wound’s opened up; lie still, and I’ll go find Dylan Lawson to stitch you up again."
Upon hearing her words, Alaric coldly warned, "If you dare take this opportunity to sneak away, I’ll drag myself to your house to find you."
Damn it! Eleanor’s face turned dark.
She was actually being threatened by Alaric Faulkner, betting on her guilt for him saving her, thinking she wouldn’t watch him bleed to death.
Clearly, he won the bet.
Although she thought this, Eleanor still let out a cold laugh, saying, "You can try."
Alaric paused; judging by Eleanor’s attitude, she might really stand by and watch him die.
She had always avoided him as if he were a snake, and his death might just free her from him.
He shouldn’t think himself too important.
Thinking this, Alaric’s handsome face sank; his heart was utterly frustrated, self-inflicted misery, indeed.
Eleanor had just fetched the first aid kit, giving him basic first aid, tucking the blood-soaked cotton into her pocket.
This time she was unobstructed, successfully going out to find Dylan Lawson.
Dylan Lawson came in with the first aid kit and sighed helplessly upon seeing Alaric’s wound.
"Honestly, Alaric, take care of yourself; Sally the doctor stitched the wound herself, yet you’ve ripped it open."
Alaric Faulkner: "Oh, so what?"
Dylan was speechless, "Do you know that generally skilled doctors don’t do these simple post-op tasks themselves."
They pass them to assistants; she must have done it personally because of little sister-in-law’s sake." Newest update provided by nοvelfire.net
Eleanor silently agreed in her heart.
Alaric sneered coldly, "Did I beg her to do it herself?"
Eleanor’s face darkened, gritting her teeth.
Dog of a man, go to hell.