The hidden billionaire heiress (Lyra Melvin) novel Chapter 199

The silk garment had adhered to the wound in a large area and the blood was dried up.

Nineteen shook his hands and tried twice but couldn't get the shirt completely off.

But the bloody whip wounds can already be seen.

"Oh my God! Who did this? So cruel!"

Previously, Nineteen was a fighter in the black market's organization. The rules were very strict. Fighters that were not good enough would be beaten to death, which was normal. But Nineteen was just okay and he was not beaten too often.

And Melvin was different. He was obviously a well-bred young master. How can he still be so seriously injured?

Melvin stopped his surprise with a hush, "Don't shout. Close the windows, draw the curtains, and use a hot towel to spread my back for a while if you can't get my shirt off."

"Yes."

Nineteen hurriedly did as he was told, and went to the bathroom to for a hot towel. He was a little intolerant, "Mr. Freeman, the hot compress may hurt a little, you ... bear it."

Using a hot towel on the injury was like suffering another sharp pain like fire.

Melvin trembled violently. The cold sweat was streaming down and pillows he clenched were deformed.

Nineteen had experience helping people with medication, even if he didn't get beaten up often.

He took out an anti-inflammatory tablet from the medical kit, stuffed it into Melvin's mouth, and brought a basin of water to help him clean the blood on his back first. The original bandages were also dirty and had to be removed.

"Mr. Freeman, who did this? With your status who dares to touch you casually, except for Miss ..."

His pupils widened and he asked in a small voice, "It can't really be Miss, can it?"

Melvin was dizzy and buried his face under the covers, not bothering to pay attention to him.

Nineteen thought about it and dissipated his thought, "It shouldn't be Miss. If it was her, you wouldn't have had to ask me to come quietly to treat the wound."

"Don't guess. Get fast. I have to cook before Lyra gets back."

The injury was appalling, especially the back. When walking, it will be pulled, which was extremely smarting. And he had to get up to cook?

It made Nineteen feel a little sorry for him.

He sighed. In order not to let Miss Carroll and other bodyguards notice the torn shirt, Nineteen momentarily can not think of a good way, so he took the initiative to quietly help him tucked it under the bed.

Alcohol disinfection was too stinging but iodine was relatively mild. Nineteen took a cotton swab to help him wipe the wound. It took a long time before he finally finished the medicine.

The original burn on the middle of the back was bandaged. Now from the back to the waist, all was wrapped in a layer of bandages.

Melvin insisted on getting out of bed and Nineteen had no choice but to give him another shot of antibiotics.

...

Half an hour later, Lyra went back to the villa.

Rebecca, who was a lively young girl, was by her side.

Rebecca looked the whole villa inside and out, wrapped her arm around her and pouted, "Not bad Lyra. I didn't expect you to have such a nice villa. I really came to the right place! Let me stay with you for a few more days!"

Lyra was unmoved and her tone was austere, "You have said it's just three days. I'll have my bodyguard put you on a plane back to Suham by then."

Rebecca muttered with grievance, "Oooh, you're so heartless."

"Don't be naughty." Lyra's tone gentled down, "Such a bar trouble can not happen again. Since you want to come to stay with me for a few days, you must be good. Do you know it?"

"Got it!"

The two laughed as they entered the villa.

As soon as she opened the door, Lyra smelled the fragrance of the meal coming to her, and her eyes subconsciously looked towards the kitchen.

She told him to rest before leaving. Why did he get up to cook?

Melvin happened to hear the commotion and came out from the kitchen.

Lyra noticed that he had changed into a dark black silk shirt. The two buttons on the collar were slightly loose and his collarbone was partly hidden. As if he had washed his hair, his short hair was not completely blow-dried. With the exquisite features, he was handsome while puritanical.

And the condition and face seemed to be much better.

"Why don't you put on a jacket? Have you taken your cold medicine?"

Although the tone was cold as always, Melvin's heart was warmed by her words of concern for him as soon as she returned.