Chapter 241 She's a Bit Fierce
"Butler, has Alex arranged all of your duties yet?"
"Mr. Mitchell has not moved to the new place yet. He's still at your marital home, and none of us have moved out either."
"Really? You guys are still at the old villa?" She was shocked, having thought Alexander Mitchell had moved out the day they got divorced.
"Is Alex... home now?" she inquired further.
"Yes, he's in. Mr. Mitchell got hurt, seems like from the old lady's cane. He'll need to lie down for a few days."
Ava Anderson furrowed her brows tightly.
He'd been getting hurt a lot lately.
The grandmother must've really laid into him, or else why would he need to lie down for days?
"Mrs. Mitchell, would you like to come back to see Mr. Mitchell?"
"I... wouldn't it be inappropriate for me to return now? We're divorced, I'm not your Mrs. Mitchell anymore."
"You are still a part of the Mitchell family, and you've left some stuff here, uncollected. It'd be perfectly normal for you to come back for your things."
The butler seemed to sense the anxiety in Ava Anderson's voice and offered her a way out.
Ava tugged at the corner of her mouth, "That's true; I do have some items left there. Maybe I'll come back for those."
"That's fine, Mrs. Mitchell. I won't tell Mr. Mitchell you're coming to get your things. It's none of my business anyway—you wouldn't alert me before showing up since it's your house."
The butler was smart and knew exactly what to say to avoid making Ava Anderson feel awkward.
"Alright, thank you."
After hanging up the phone, Ava Anderson let out a long sigh of relief, consoling herself, "Just this once, Ava Anderson, just this one time."
Yesterday, she had argued with Alexander Mitchell and their grandmother had overheard. Truth be told, Ava played a role in the dispute. Now that Alex had taken the scolding alone, she felt compelled to check on him.
...
Alexander Mitchell lay on the bed, with the butler applying medication to his back, covered in wounds that even bore the marks of Scarlett's cane's dragon head.
She had struck with force, almost like she was beating him to death. His back was bruised black and blue, with many areas broken and bleeding. The pain was so intense he could only sleep face down.
On his way back, he had barely stayed conscious through the pain.
The butler's hands trembled as he applied the ointment, sighing woefully, being very gentle and careful.
Alexander Mitchell frowned, "Hurry it up."
The butler, momentarily pausing his treatment, said, "Mr. Mitchell, your injuries are severe. Maybe we should go to the hospital. I'm worried about infection."
"I'm not scared for my body; why are you? Just apply the medicine quickly, don't dawdle."
With a sigh, the butler inside felt a heavy heart but continued to apply the medication.
The wound ached fiercely and Alexander Mitchell endured stubbornly. His brows knitted, eyes shut tight, he didn't let out even a murmur of pain.
Alexander Mitchell clutched the pillow beneath him. Gradually, he buried his head into it as if he was about to pass out from the torturous pain.
Suddenly, a delicate hand gently rested on his shoulder, as if injecting a surge of strength into his body, and Alexander Mitchell slowly opened his eyes.
A gentle breeze touched his wound, followed by the soft touch of medical cotton on his skin, and the chilly sensation of the antiseptic made him flinch a bit. It was a bit stinging, yet the pain seemed to diminish.
“Is it done yet, butler?" he asked, feeling the process was taking too long.
"Just a little bit more, there are some spots I haven't gotten to," replied a familiar and soft voice, not that of a man's, that made Alexander Mitchell's eyes flicker with surprise.
As he was about to get up, the hand pressed on his shoulder, “Don't move,” she commanded with a hint of sternness, “I’ll finish applying the medication. We can talk about anything else afterward.”
***
