Jesse Rowan bent down and reached out to touch her forehead.
Sure enough, it was very hot.
A needle was still in her right hand, with the dicine flowing into her body through the drip.
Not sure if Jesse Rowan’s hand was very cool, but Joan Harry made a sound, "Mm," furrowing her brows tighter, caught between sleep and wakefulness.
"Mr. Rowan, honestly, it’s not really our fault. When we found Miss Harry, she was standing alone in the rain, as if she didn’t care about her life. I offered her an umbrella, and she pushed away. Everyone can testify to this point." Grandma Zaila, the old maid, argued cunningly.
In her eyes, Joan Harry was just the mistress Jesse Rowan was keeping, an indiscreet woman.
Moreover, soone clearly in disfavor.
Otherwise, why would she be having an abortion at the hospital?
"Mr. Rowan, Miss Harry is quite foul-mouthed too. She not only insulted but also included you. She even asked to tell you, Mr. Rowan, that she cursed you as a bastard, a shaless scoundrel, whom even the King of Hell wouldn’t accept. And she said that a demon like you should be dood to no offspring."
Jesse Rowan suddenly turned his head, sneering coldly at Grandma Zaila, "You have a pretty good mory."
"I’m not tattling; I’m just conveying what Miss Harry said. I was upset and couldn’t help but tell you, Mr. Rowan," Grandma Zaila quickly explained.
"It’s her freedom to curse . Who do you think you are?" Jesse Rowan’s temper flared instantly, his eyes bloodshot, his face dark.
"I, I, I..." The maid stamred, "I’m just standing up for you, Mr. Rowan. You are such a good person, why should Miss Harry insult you? You treat her so well, yet she curses you; isn’t that ungrateful?"
"I just like her ungrateful ways! What the hell are you babbling about? Get out!"
Jesse Rowan kicked Grandma Zaila, venting his pent-up anger!
The old maid was terrified, clutching her leg, thinking, how did it co to this?
She scurried out without daring to say another word, quickly making her way to the door of the ward.
She had never seen Mr. Rowan this furious. Since returning to the country, he’s always been all smiles, never losing his temper.
It seems Joan Harry was really stirring him up.
That woman was definitely trouble.
The ward suddenly fell silent, quietly, without a sound.
The curtains were drawn, blocking out the heavy rain and darkness outside. The ward was brightly lit and warm, not so chilling.
Jesse Rowan’s bangs were damp, sticking to his forehead. He seed unaware, his gaze resting on the woman in the bed.
Perhaps from feeling too uncomfortable, Joan Harry shifted her body slightly, letting out a soft "Mm," her brows knitting tightly.
She attempted to move her right hand, and as soon as she did, the IV bottle wobbled.
Jesse Rowan quickly held her hand down, glaring at her with a warning, "Don’t move around. If you do, I’ll tie you up."
With him holding her wrist, she couldn’t move, but her hair was scratching her neck, causing discomfort.
In her half-awake state, she fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to speak, but her throat felt parched, making it hard to utter a word.
In her struggle, the IV bottle kept shaking.
"You’re still moving?" Jesse Rowan shouted, "Do you believe I’ll tie you up right now?"
Maybe she was frightened and stopped moving, her voice hoarse, finally murmuring softly, "Uncomfortable..."
Her whole body felt awful, like ants were crawling.
Her voice was full of grievance, even carrying a hint of a sob.
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