Chapter 119: Who is the mysterious tormentor?
The housekeeper looked after Violet Devereux in the bedroom. Once the ginger tea on the nightstand had cooled enough, she gently lifted the still-comatose Violet, intent on giving her the medication.
But Violet, lost in her deep slumber, wouldn't open her mouth. The housekeeper tried carefully to administer the ginger tea, but Violet's teeth remained clamped shut, unyielding.
The housekeeper was at a loss; force-feeding was not an option.
If anything went wrong, Mr. Hall would surely hold her accountable.
After much deliberation, she decided to seek Mr. Hall’s guidance. After all, Violet was the young lady he had brought home.
She placed Violet back into bed and went out to consult with Mr. Hall.
Approaching the living room, she saw the handsome man sitting elegantly on the sofa, absorbed in his documents. She walked over cautiously and said, "Mr. Hall, Ms. Devereux... she's still out... I don't dare to give her the medication. What should I do?"
Brady Hall glanced back at his aunt, "She isn't taking her medicine?"
"She's out cold and won't open her mouth, I can't get her to take it," the aunt replied cautiously, wary of upsetting Mr. Hall and facing his disappointment for her inability to handle things.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Brady murmured, "I see."
He tossed aside the iPad he was holding and stood up to check on her in the bedroom, the aunt hurrying after him.
Once inside, she asked, "Mr. Hall, what should we do?"
Brady looked down at the woman lying in bed, her complexion a tad pale. After a moment, to the aunt's astonishment, he propped up Violet Devereux, gently pinched her delicate chin, then took a sip of ginger tea and, with a fever-reducing pill in his mouth, forcibly fed it to Violet.
The sight of this forceful administration made the middle-aged aunt blush; the audacity of young folks nowadays, especially someone commanding like Mr. Hall.
Feeling it inappropriate to watch their intimate moment, she discreetly left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.
Brady continued, gently prying open Violet's lips with the tip of his tongue, gradually feeding her the medicine and ginger tea.
His tongue was warm, but the mixture of medicine and ginger was bitter.
Even in her dazed state, Violet could sense the warmth and a faint, pleasant hint of tobacco in her mouth.
She felt uncomfortable and instinctively murmured, "No... don't... don't want..."
"What don't you want?" Brady was slightly lost in the pleasure of caring for her, "Hm? Tell me, you little enchantress."
Her lips were always so soft, like jelly, and unexpectedly sweet, reminding him of strawberry cake.
Overwhelmed by a sense of satisfaction, Brady lost his self-control and reason. After she had taken the medicine, he didn't pull away, instead his tongue eagerly entwined with hers as if determined to thoroughly intertwine with her.
Violet gasped for air, the sensation overwhelming her.
But she remained groggy, her body weak and barely able to open her eyes.
She had no idea who was 'tormenting' her like this.
However, the intense and dominant kiss didn't last long; Brady finally snapped out of it, curbing his desires and let go of her, gently placing her back onto the bed.
Rising from the bed, he gently laid the blanket over her sleeping form.
Then, with long strides, he made his way out of the room.
Man, he must be losing his mind.
Was his yearning for her really that strong?
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