From the beginning, she hadn’t said a word to him. Was she feeling guilty and afraid that he might sense sothing?
Just when Yancy Shaw was filled with intense suspicion, Sherry suddenly raised her head, eting his gaze without a trace of fear, and then solemnly spoke.
"Mr. Shaw, we haven’t t. Please show so respect!"
The mont her voice echoed, the expression on Yancy Shaw’s face froze once more.
He suddenly felt a sense of bewildernt...
Her voice was entirely different from Raina’s, more hoarse than Raina’s, and her speaking tone was unlike the gentle Raina’s, carrying a sharper edge of hostility.
The expression on Yancy Shaw’s face instantly beca imnsely complicated.
"Mr. Shaw, can you let go now?" Sherry calmly looked at the man in front of her, much calr than she had imagined.
Over the years, she had developed a smoking habit, which had made her voice much hoarser, coupled with managing the vast empire of Silvanus, her speaking style and tone had changed. Even when she recalled her old voice, it felt strange to her, and she doubted Yancy Shaw could detect any clues.
Her voice made Yancy Shaw pause for a mont.
Two seconds later, he abruptly let go of her wrist.
"Apologies, Miss Sherry..." he said, bowing his head apologetically, only to realize that the place he had just gripped was sowhat wet.
He lifted his palm to see, only to find it stained with blood... Had she also been injured?
Sherry turned around, preparing to leave.
"Wait a minute!"
Yancy Shaw’s face changed as he quickly walked over, standing in front of her.
"Mr. Shaw, is there anything else?" Sherry glanced at him, her tone blatantly impatient.
Yet, Yancy Shaw wasn’t angered by this; instead, he looked concernedly at her arm, which was covered with multiple wounds.
"You’re hurt. I’ll call for a doctor."
"It’s just a minor injury. I can handle it myself. No need for Mr. Shaw to worry," Sherry replied coldly, then walked out of the garden, leaving Yancy Shaw alone, stunned in the garden drenched in the sunset, gazing directly at her departing figure.
On his handso face, the expression was complex and full of doubt.
This cold deanor of hers was nothing like his Raina...
But why, when getting close to her, did the sense of alarm within him grow increasingly intense?
...
Noah Drexler held Sumr Shawcross, carrying her all the way back to the bedroom. He laid her on the bed and began to carefully examine her injuries.
Through the bloodstains, he realized that besides the exposed arm, her waist and legs covered by clothing were also wounded...
Seeing this, his eyes darkened, and his handso face turned paler.
At this mont, the doctor beside him also spoke.
"Young master, these injuries are not light, I’m afraid she needs to take off her clothes..."
Because removing clothes is necessary to treat the wounds inside, he ntioned earlier that it wasn’t convenient to do so in the garden.
As the doctor’s words fell, Noah Drexler’s face froze.
Sumr Shawcross’s heart tightened along with his.
Just as she was about to speak up to express refusal, Noah Drexler’s deep voice suddenly rang out.
"Tell how to handle it, I’ll do it!" he said solemnly to the doctor.
Hearing his words, the doctor was quite surprised and couldn’t help but glance at the servant leaning against the bed, feeling even more puzzled inside.
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