Chapter 29
"Harper!" came a cry, and strong, warm hands caught her just in time.
Frozen with fear, Harper dared not open her eyes until she felt safe. Slowly, she lifted her eyelids.
Beneath his wire-rimmed glasses, Keith's eyes were filled with concern, and his umbrella lay on the wet ground.
His heart was still racing. 'She nearly hit the pavement.'
After a moment of shock, Harper steadied herself and asked, "Keith, what are you doing here?"
As the comforting touch faded, Keith clenched and unclenched his hand to calm himself, saying with an even tone, "Molly asked me to pick you up. Luckily, I found you."
"I'm causing you trouble again."
"Not at all," Keith replied as he picked up the umbrella to shelter her from the rain. Noticing Harper's disheveled state, he asked anxiously, "What happened to you?"
"I—" Harper started but struggled to find the words.
"Let's head to the hospital."
Without waiting for an explanation, Keith draped his jacket over her and said apologetically, "Pardon me," before holding her into his arms and carrying her to the car.
After her foot was treated at the hospital and a blood test was conducted, Keith asked with concern, "Doctor, is she going to be okay?"
The doctor gave him a reproachful glance and admonished, "Your wife is showing signs of anemia. As her husband, you should be more attentive. Be moderate in... certain activities. You should bring her in for regular check-ups, got it?"
When the doctor mentioned 'moderate,' a fleeting crack appeared in Keith's usually composed demeanor.
Harper burst into an awkward laugh – her face was a shade of red that could rival the freshest raspberry just picked from the bush. Desperate to offer an explanation, Keith's gentle voice preempted her, "I understand, Doctor."
Once the doctor had left, Harper was the embodiment of discomfort, fidgeting as she muttered, " Keith, what the doctor said just now—"
Keith, sliding his clean fingers up to adjust his glasses, cut her off with ease, "No worries, no need to explain."
"I'm really in your debt again today. I don't even know how to begin to thank you."
"You really want to thank me? I'm not one for formalities!" Keith's deep-set eyes glimmered with a sparkle that was hard to miss beneath his thick lashes.
"Of course."
Keith allowed a small, enigmatic smile to play on his lips. "Then how about you take me out to dinner another day?"
"Sure," Harper agreed without hesitation.
Keith had been her and her baby's savior not once but twice. She would gladly treat him to dinner, not just once, but ten times over if needed.
At that moment, her phone began to ring. It was Abigail on the other end. "Hey, mom."
"Harper, how have you been taking care of yourself these past few days? Has Francis been looking after you?"
Harper choked, but she masked it with a semblance of positivity, "I'm doing okay."
"That's good to hear. I've been arranging for someone to look after Dylan's health and plan to visit you in a few days. I've got to run, dear, so I'll hang up now."
"But—" Harper's words were cut off. The line had gone dead.
In the meantime, Keith had stepped out momentarily, returning with a pair of slippers, which he placed at the foot of the bed, intending to help her into them.
Harper swiftly interjected, "Oh, thanks, Keith. I can manage on my own."
"You're injured..." Keith refused to take no for an answer and gently guided her feet into the slippers.
Crash—
The hospital room door swung open dramatically, banging against the wall, reminiscent of a scene from an action movie.
A tall and imposing figure entered, his presence cutting through the room's tranquility like a knife through butter.
"Take your hands off her!" The words were forced out between gritted teeth, and Francis's handsome face was twisted with rage.
Without a second thought, Keith positioned himself between Harper and the newcomer, his tone cool and challenging, "And you are?"
The tension was magnified, shattered only by a fist that struck Keith's face with brutal force, which sent his glasses shattering to the floor.
But Francis wasn't done. His tongue flicked over his teeth in a predatory gesture, and he raised his fist for another blow.
"Francis, are you insane?" Harper cried, shielding Keith with her petite frame.
A sharp pain stabbed Francis's heart at the sight of her defending another man. He wanted to lash out, to kill the man under her protection, yet he reined in his fury, reluctantly pulling back his raised fist.
"To lay a finger on a woman he shouldn't have touched. A beating is what he deserves."
Francis's voice was laced with jealousy. He hadn't seemed to notice himself.
"He was just helping me..." Harper began to explain, but the man cut her off.
"So, this is your 'Senior'?"
Francis recalled the report Victor had handed him earlier. 'Keith, Perfect Couple...
'Fine. Just fine.'
His lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Does he know you're a married woman? Or maybe he enjoys flirting with other man's wife?"
His words were harsh and piercing.
Anger welled up inside Harper, but with Keith there, she swallowed it down.
"Senior, please leave. Thank you for today."
She didn't want to involve innocent parties in the mess between her and Francis.
The word "Senior" stung Francis anew.
Francis's lips twisted into a semblance of a smile, but his voice was chilling. "Throw him out."
Two men in black appeared behind him, closing in on Keith from either side.
"Francis, don't go too far!" Harper shouted, ignoring the pain in her foot as she stepped in front of the bodyguards.
The sight infuriated Francis, his fingers cracking with the urge to act.
Yet, seeing Harper's pale face and her wounded hands, he held back.
His anger subsided into a firm command, "Get him out of here!"
"Senior, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you next time," Harper apologized repeatedly. 'I shouldn't have dragged Keith into this.'
Keith seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. 'This man must be Harper's husband, and it's not my place to interfere.
'So, her husband is the leading figure of the prestigious Getty family in Westerlyn.'
Despite this, Keith could tell Harper detested her husband and that her husband didn't cherish her.
His dark eyes flashed with a cold glimmer, not intimidated by the menacing look leveled at him, as he spoke to Harper with a gentle tone, "Go and get some rest."
She nodded.
To Francis, this scene looked like flirting.
His tongue pressed against his molars. He was already regretting that he hadn't crushed this man.
In the hospital room, now just the two of them, the atmosphere turned icy.
Suddenly, Francis approached Harper and grabbed her shoulder with a grip so strong it seemed he intended to shatter her.
"Francis, what are you doing?"
In the next moment, he snatched the black suit from her body and the slippers from her feet, tossing them straight into the trash.
"They're filthy," he stated without a trace of mercy.
The sight of her in another man's clothes had irritated him beyond measure when he first entered.
Now, at least, he felt a moment of relief.
Harper froze, her heart raw and aching.
'Donning a man's clothes has rendered me dirty.
'But he was all over Chloe, hugging and kissing her every day. Doesn't that make him dirty as well?'
She clenched her lips, her nails digging into her palms, but she stayed silent.
She kept telling herself it was only a matter of a few more days, and then they would have nothing to do with each other.
She had made it this far. A few more days wouldn't make much difference.
Suddenly, a jacket was draped over her without warning, and before she knew it, Francis had held her up in his arms.
Startled, Harper clutched his shirt tightly, softening a corner of the man's otherwise fierce heart.
But then, the memory of Chloe's neck and collarbone littered with kiss marks made Harper feel sick.
She tried to brush it off with a cold face, "Let go of me. I can walk on my own."
Francis acted as if he hadn't heard a word, carrying her out the door with determined steps.
The hospital was bustling, and Harper, not wanting to draw attention, stopped struggling.
Soon, she was gently placed in the car, and he followed, sitting beside her.
The car started moving.
Harper shoved the jacket aside, tossed it next to her, and pressed herself against the car window, craving fresh air.
Just then, she noticed Keith's grey Mercedes pulling out, and feeling a twinge of guilt for today's events, she looked away.
Francis's voice came, laced with scorn, "What's the matter, you can't bear to part with him?"
His breath, usually so appealing, made her feel disgusted as he came closer.
The revulsion was written all over her face as she pushed him away with her good hand.
Her action struck a nerve, and with a clench of his jaw, he grabbed her wrist, his lips curling into a cold smirk.
"You really can't let go, can you?"
At that moment, Keith's Mercedes seemed to slow down, almost as if he had seen Harper.
As the two cars were about to drive side by side, Francis ordered sharply, "Slow down."
Harper was bewildered, unsure of his intentions.
Before she realized it, Francis raised her hand above her head, pressing it against the half-open window, and leaned in, kissing her fiercely.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
