"The old man woke up?" Baron Lawrence imdiately grabbed his shoulder, "When did he wake up? How is he now?"
"The Old Lord just woke up, and his physical condition is good. The doctor said as long as he rests well next, there shouldn’t be any problems," Scott Harris quickly replied, "President Lawrence wants you to go back as soon as possible."
Old Master Lawrence woke up, there must be a lot of affairs in the Lawrence Family, no wonder Nicholas Lawrence wants him to return quickly.
Baron Lawrence frowned slightly and said, "Got it."
He released Scott Harris and started walking back towards the bedroom, "I’ll leave once her fever subsides. You go ahead and make the arrangents."
Indeed, Lord still can’t let go of Ms. Clark.
Scott Harris understood and replied, "Yes, I’ll make the arrangents right away."
"Wait a mont." Baron Lawrence suddenly stopped him.
"Hmm?" Scott Harris paused in confusion and bent down to ask, "Does Lord have any other instructions?"
Baron Lawrence’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, and his dark eagle-like eyes showed a complex expression. After a long pause, he finally squeezed out a sentence from his throat, "Don’t tell her I ca back once she wakes up."
Why not tell Ms. Clark that he returned to take care of her?
Scott Harris didn’t understand what he was thinking.
Does Lord not want to reconcile with Ms. Clark?
"If you dare to tell her a single word, you can go to Country T to dig coal. I an it!" Baron Lawrence added with a threat.
Scott Harris definitely didn’t want to dig coal and imdiately said, "Yes, Lord, I understand."
"Good, go now."
Scott Harris left.
He stood tall for a mont before stepping towards the bedroom.
The bedroom was filled with a scent of alcohol, perhaps due to the evaporation of white liquor, making the room noticeably warr than outside.
Enna Clark’s first bottle of IV drip was almost finished. Her eyes were closed, and her delicate face wasn’t as red as before.
After the flush of high fever faded, her lips appeared especially pale.
Baron Lawrence looked down at her sleeping face.
Enna Clark might truly be uncomfortable. Even in her sleep, her eyebrows were furrowed with discomfort. Her eyebrows were curved, and her eyelashes were long and curved. Her facial features might not be stunning when combined, but even asleep, she still gave a soothing feeling.
Baron Lawrence gazed at her face, his thin lips pressed into a straight line. He stood for a mont, then suddenly returned to the living room and found the bruise dicine Lyle Westbrook had left on the table earlier. He bent down, picked it up, and returned to the bedside.
The tall and proud figure crouched down, took the hand of the sleeping woman, and placed it on his own leg. Then he pressed his thin lips together, silently lowered his eyelids, squeezed out so ointnt, and applied it to her wrist. As he applied it, he used his fingertips to gently massage and knead...
"Ugh." Perhaps feeling pain in her sleep, Enna Clark groaned faintly, her frown deepening, trying to withdraw her hand.
Baron Lawrence is so domineering, once he caught hold, he wouldn’t let go! He imdiately held her hand in place, not allowing her to move, patiently massaging it little by little.
For bruises like this, if the blood stasis isn’t pushed out, it can easily swell up.
Lyle Westbrook probably didn’t tell her.
Thinking of that man, a fierce look flashed through Baron Lawrence’s eyes, and the strength of his hand involuntarily increased.
"Ugh." The person in pain imdiately started to move again.
He suddenly ca to his senses, forcibly suppressing his emotions, soothingly lightening his movents, his handso face exuding focus and seriousness...
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