Chapter 890 Be Careful
Jeffery raised his hand and gently brushed a strand of hair from Lyra's forehead. His fingertips lightly grazed her cheek, carrying a hint of subtle intimacy.
Lyra's face instantly turned beet red. Her eyes widened, a mix of fear and shyness swirling within them.
"Jeff, you're acting weird today."
Jeffery's voice was low and tender, whispering in Lyra's ear like an enchanting spell.
Lyra's lips trembled slightly, trying to explain but stumbling over her words. "Mr. Gray, I..."
Jeffery's gaze hardened as he stared at Lyra. He grabbed her wrist with such force that she couldn't help but gasp.
"I just realized what you were up to. You thought I wouldn't notice you drugging my water?" Jeffery's voice carried a mix of anger and disappointment.
Lyra was shocked. She hadn't expected Jeffery to notice anything unusual.
"Mr. Gray, I have my reasons. Please, let me explain," Lyra pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes.
Jeffery scoffed. "Reasons? What kind of reasons justify this? Drugging someone? Lyra, I misjudged you."
"Mr. Gray, it's not what you think. Please, listen to me!"
But Jeffery wouldn't give her a chance. His disgust surged like a tidal wave.
Having been a test subject, he had an extraordinary sensitivity and immunity to various drugs.
The moment he tasted the water, he sensed something was off and discreetly spat it out, feeling deeply betrayed by Lyra's actions.
"I trusted you, and you tried to drug me. Have you no conscience?" Jeffery glared at Lyra, dragging her towards the door.
Lyra struggled desperately, tears brimming in her eyes. "Mr. Gray, please, listen to me!"
But Jeffery wasn't listening. He opened the door and unceremoniously threw Lyra out.
Lyra fell to the hallway floor, the door slamming shut in her face.
She sat there, stunned, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Lyra hugged her knees, burying her head in her arms, her body trembling uncontrollably.
She knew she had made a mistake, but the injustice she felt overwhelmed her.
Inside the room, Jeffery was restless.
He couldn't believe Lyra would do something like this.
He thought someone as cunning as Lyra would find another place to sleep after being thrown out, given her willingness to do anything to achieve her goals, like trying to drug him today.
But outside, Lyra was filled with despair and helplessness.
She didn't know where to go. The hotel hallway was cold and empty, and she was consumed by fear and guilt.
She curled up by the door, her body gradually succumbing to the cold, unable to sleep as Jeffery's angry eyes haunted her mind.
As time passed, Lyra grew weaker, finally drifting into a fitful sleep, muttering incoherently.
In the middle of the night, Jeffery tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Suddenly, he heard a faint sound outside the door, like someone groaning in pain.
Alarmed, he got up and opened the door, shocked to find Lyra still there, never having left.
Lyra's face was flushed, her brow furrowed, clearly running a high fever.
Jeffery felt a pang of guilt. He knelt and touched her forehead, the heat making him frown even more.
Without hesitation, Jeffery carried Lyra back into the room, gently placing her on the bed.
He quickly found a towel, soaked it in cold water, and gently placed it on Lyra's forehead, trying to bring down her fever.
Watching Lyra's frail state, he felt conflicted.
He sat by the bed, silently keeping watch over Lyra, his emotions in turmoil.
Jeffery's thoughts began to drift.
He remembered how dedicated Lyra was at the hospital, her occasional mysteriousness overshadowed by her genuine care for patients.
He also recalled their teamwork in the operating room, where Lyra was calm and professional, a stark contrast to her current vulnerable state.
This made him wonder if there was more to Lyra's actions than met the eye, if there was some hidden reason behind her behavior.
In her feverish haze, Lyra seemed to sense someone caring for her.
Her lips trembled slightly, murmuring, "Mr. Gray, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
Jeffery's heart stirred at her words. He softly asked, "Then why did you do it? What's your reason?"
But Lyra, half-awake, only repeated her apologies, offering no real explanation.
As time slowly passed, under Jeffery's careful care, Lyra's fever began to subside.
Her brow gradually relaxed, and her breathing became steadier.
Jeffery's tense nerves finally eased a bit.
He rubbed his temples wearily, watching Lyra's condition improve, and eventually succumbed to his exhaustion, falling asleep in the chair by the bed.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the window blinds.
Jeffery woke up, driven by his internal clock. He immediately checked on Lyra, seeing her still asleep, her face still pale but no longer as distressing as the night before.
He quietly got up, straightened his slightly wrinkled clothes, and left a note for Lyra, informing her that he was going to attend a conference alone, then quietly left the room.
As the door closed, Lyra slowly woke up.
Her head was still a bit foggy, momentarily disoriented.
Once she recognized her surroundings, memories of the previous night flooded back, filling her with guilt and regret.
She noticed Jeffery's note, learning that he had gone to a conference.
Lyra struggled to get up, quickly freshened up, and hurried out.
She rushed out of the hotel and hailed a cab to the hospital.
As the cab approached the hospital, Lyra saw a group of people angrily storming towards the entrance, some holding signs that read "Incompetent Doctors."
Her heart tightened. She got out of the cab and quickened her pace towards the hospital.
At that moment, Jeffery stood nearby, realizing it was a protest. He was about to intervene when the crowd surged towards him, their eyes filled with anger and hostility.
"Mr. Gray, watch out!"
Seeing this, Lyra's heart raced. Ignoring her weakness, she rushed forward and pushed Jeffery out of the way, placing herself between him and the angry mob.
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