Chapter 312 Do You Really See Me That Way?
"I..." Wesley stammered, unable to keep up with Francis's quick thinking.
Frustrated, he snapped, "You're obsessed!"
Francis held Harper's arm steady for the injection, not wanting Wesley to touch her.
Wesley angrily gave the sedative, then grumbled, "There might be side effects like fever or thirst. Give her more water to help flush out the toxins."
Francis listened, then dragged Wesley to the door. "Thanks."
Wesley was about to lose it but managed a "You're welcome" before the door slammed in his face.
He muttered a few curses and left.
Inside, Harper had calmed down and was dozing off.
Francis, worried she might overheat, swapped the thick blanket for a lighter one.
Concerned she might get a fever, he stayed by her side.
In the middle of the night, Harper mumbled, "Water."
Francis woke up, grabbed a glass, and helped her drink.
She sipped slowly, then pouted when she couldn't drink more.
After putting the glass away, Harper fell back asleep.
Francis checked her forehead; no fever.
He stayed up until dawn, finally relieved.
Wesley had said if she didn't get a fever overnight, she'd be fine.
Francis stepped onto the balcony, smoked a cigarette, and called Victor. "Did you find out what happened last night?"
"Mr. Hall was drugged too. He got caught trying to molest a hotel staff member and is now in the police station," Victor reported. "His family is trying to settle it privately with money. He'll probably be released."
"Keep an eye on him. Interrogate him when he's out."
After hanging up, Francis saw Harper still asleep and went to take a shower.
On the bed, Harper woke up, realizing she wasn't at home.
Panicked, she remembered the hotel dinner but not how she got here.
She couldn't find her phone, so she used the hotel phone to call Jasper.
He answered quickly.
"Jasper," Harper said, her voice shaky with tears.
"What's wrong, Harper?" Jasper asked, worried.
"I think I was drugged last night," Harper said, her head hurting. She remembered running but not how she got back to the hotel.
Her body felt sore but otherwise fine, no signs of assault. Still, she wasn't sure.
Jasper's heart sank. "Where are you now?"
Harper checked the sign by the bed. "In the presidential suite at the Emerald Oasis Hotel."
"Be careful, call the police. I'll send someone over. I'm in Auroria, but I'll come back after checking on Dad," Jasper said.
"What's wrong with Dad?" Harper asked, concerned.
Jasper didn't want her to worry. "Nothing serious. Don't worry. I'll take the earliest flight back tomorrow."
After hanging up, Harper called home to tell Zoey not to worry.
Just then, a noise came from the bathroom.
Harper's eyes widened. She grabbed a crystal nameplate from the bedside table and crouched by the bathroom door.
The door slid open.
Francis saw the empty bed and panicked. "Harper..."
Before he could finish, she hit him hard on the forehead, causing blood to flow.
Realizing she had hit him, Harper froze when she saw his face. "It's you?"
Francis frowned, recalling her leaning on Andrew yesterday. He said coldly, "Who else did you expect?"
Harper stepped back, looking guarded.
This made Francis even more annoyed.
He took a step forward, about to explain, when Harper warned, "Don't come any closer. I called the police!"
She tightened her clothes and said warily, "Don't think I don't know. You're in on it with Mr. Hall, right?"
She had heard about the shady dealings in the entertainment industry and suspected Francis might be involved with Maurice.
Francis's mouth twitched, too angry to speak.
Harper felt her suspicion was justified.
Seeing Francis staring silently, she picked up a table lamp to defend herself.
Francis laughed angrily.
He grabbed a towel, wiped the blood from his forehead, tossed it into the laundry basket, and said slowly, "Go ahead. Call the police."
Harper didn't hesitate. She pressed the hotel's call button, gave the address, and identified Francis as a molester.
Throughout, she was clear-headed, making sure Francis heard every word.
The room filled with tension.
With each word, Francis's face grew colder.
After hanging up, Harper showed no fear.
If he had really touched her, she would make him pay.
"Do you really see me that way?" Francis's voice was hoarse after a sleepless night, now completely devoid of warmth.
Harper's voice was equally cold. "You can't judge a book by its cover. Just like I thought you wouldn't cheat, but you did, didn't you?"
Francis's throat tightened. "Besides you, there's no other woman."
Harper found it laughable. Even if he hadn't physically cheated, emotional cheating was just as bad to her.
She scoffed, "Do you need an award for your innocence, Mr. Getty?"
Francis stiffened, his face even more somber.
Harper didn't care if he had slept with other women. His self-sacrificing gestures didn't move her.
"By the way, your first love was at the dinner last night. If she knew you were such a dirty man who only wanted to sleep with other women, would she be disappointed and heartbroken?"
Francis decided to explain again. "I never liked her. I was kind to her because she did me a favor. Is that clear enough?"
Harper's eyes were cold. "But your kindness hurt me."
At that moment, Francis almost suspected Harper had regained her memory.
Otherwise, how could the coldness in her eyes make him feel burned?
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