I was nervous, but I tried to play it cool. “Lance and his fiancée trashed my house—”
But before I could repeat my words, he cut me off. “I heard it. I’ll take care of it. Focus on recovering first.”
Over the next few days, to my utter disbelief, Howard took it upon himself to look after me at the hospital.
“Sir, really, compensation is enough. You don’t need to go this far,” I mumbled as he was slicing fruit for me.
He paused, the knife hovering mid-air. “You’re sure about that?”
His gaze carried a strange intensity, making me hesitate. Before I could respond, he finished cutting the fruit and—horror of horrors—reached for my personal laundry to wash it.
Panicking, I shot out of bed. “I’ll do it myself!”
I moved so quickly that I stumbled straight into his arms. Luckily, he caught me, careful to avoid the bandages on my back.
“Take care of yourself,” he said gently, holding me in place.
I felt trapped, my words tumbling out in frustration. “Look, I shouldn’t have called you names, but what Lance did isn’t something a few days of care can make up for.”
There was no denying it: even rich people could be stingy.
This cold, ruthless businessman—known for his cutthroat deals—was now trying to save money by doing my laundry? I half-expected that if I let him, he’d fire me and blacklist me from the industry as payback for my “care.”
Thankfully, I decided to set the record straight. Surely, now that everything was out in the open, Howard wouldn’t go back on his word, right?
While I was stewing in my thoughts, a male nurse came in to change the bandages on my back.
But Howard grabbed the tray and dismissed the nurse.
“Lie down. Take it off,” he said flatly.
I stared at him, dumbfounded.
Every word made sense individually, but together? Not so much.
“What the hell, Skinflint? What are you trying to pull?”
Oops. My inner thoughts slipped out.
His face turned red—actually red—all the way to his ears. It was the first time I’d seen him look flustered.
“I’ll find a female nurse,” he muttered before practically bolting to the nurses’ station.
Sure enough, he brought back a female nurse to handle it, but for the next few days, he continued to look after me with meticulous care.
On the day I was discharged, he insisted on driving me home. As I mentally prepared how to ask for proper compensation, the car stopped in front of an unfamiliar villa.
“Boss, this isn’t my house,” I said, confused.