The hidden billionaire heiress (Lyra Melvin) novel Chapter 143

If it really wasn't him, then this wasn't so simple.

Lyra's cold eyes narrowed slightly, and when she looked at Melvin, there was still doubt in her eyes.

Her hand pinched his cheek hard.

The man's cheek was squeezed and the eyebrows slightly knitted, but his dark eyes were bright, like a big dog of grievance.

"I believe you one last time. If I find out you're still lying to me, I'll immediately throw you in jail and see how many days you can survive and how long it takes your men to get you out."

After she finished, she angrily withdrew her hand.

Melvin leaned back against the floor, being completely exhausted.

He wanted to continue to say something but a sudden smell of fish and sweet rushed upward, and he was choked and coughed violently.

It was as if the lungs were going to cough out.

He was not afraid to be in jail. Even if Lyra really sent him in, there were not many people inside who dared to bully him.

But he didn't want Lyra to continue to misunderstand him.

"If I...lie ... shall rot in hell."

Lyra inclined her head and looked down at him anew.

His face was fairly wan because of coughing. And he still had a fever and looked very painful when he frowned.

She didn't know if it was because of the special drug that made him look like a sick man who had been sick for a very long time.

Even Eleven and Fifteen had the sense of compassion when they saw him in this miserable state.

Lyra, however, was expressionless and they wondered what she was thinking as she gazed at him.

After a while, she looked at Eleven and Fifteen and said, "Which one of you will go and cook some porridge for him and bring it over?"

Eleven and Fifteen looked at each other, and felt very awkward.

"Miss, if you ask us to fight with someone, it makes sense. But porridge? I have not learned ..."

Fifteen echoed, "Neither will I, really!"

Lyra was speechless.

Should she recruit some bodyguards who were also good at cooking next time?

She looked back at the man on the floor, thinking about whether she should say something to let him work it out himself.

He seemed to notice her gaze and suddenly coughed harder, which was so grieved and pitiful.

Lyra pursed her lips.

"All right, you guys get him back into bed. I'll cook."

"Yes."

After giving the order, Lyra got up and went downstairs. She found the ingredients in the cupboard and started to cook the porridge.

After Fifteen helped him back to bed, he came downstairs to find her in the kitchen.

"Miss, do you believe what Mr. Freeman said?"

"Believe, but not all. I only believe in the ultimate evidence. If it really is not him, there will always be traces."

She thought about it and continued to instruct, "Since he said he sent Garrett away, check into the matter again and see if what he said is true."

"Yes."

Fifteen frowned and continued, "Actually, I still believe in Mr. Freeman."

Lyra paused slightly, "Tell me about it."

"From the fact that he was able to take Fred out of prison and bring back while nobody noticed, the power behind him must be considerable. If he wants to set Charlotte free, he would have done it long ago because it's as easy as pie."

"Then he can take Charlotte to a small country where no one can find them, so there is no need for him to remain at the villa after doing this and risking your discovery."

Lyra did not speak.

She was angry yesterday, plus Melvin mistook her meaning and admitted it frankly, so she didn't think about it deeply.

Now that she reconsidered about it and found the details of this incident did have a lot of loopholes.

If it was not him, then who could it be?

A idea popped into Lyra's mind.

Could it be the Lloyd family who harmed her?

If it was the same person, when did he find out she was alive and that she was in Frayton?

And why did he want to get Charlotte out of jail?

What did he want to do next?

Lyra was thinking about it when Fifteen suddenly looked horrified.

"Miss! Porridge! Porridge!"

Hmm? What the hell?

"It's burnt! Miss, the porridge is burnt!"

Lyra's nostrils were suddenly filled with a burnt smell, and she realized what was going on and turned off the fire in a hurry.

Fortunately, the bottom of the pot was just sticky with the food and the porridge was still drinkable.

She told Fifteen to check the stuff as he had been instructed before, and took a small bowl from the cupboard for the porridge.

When she went upstairs, Melvin's door was not completely closed, with a crack between the door and its frame.

Lyra was about to push the door in when she saw Melvin through the crack that his trouser legs were pulled up, and he was applying medicine to his knees.

Because his skin had become fragile, his entire knees and calves were purple and black with bruises after he knelt in the garden for one night.

Lyra frowned, although he was on his knees for about as long as she was, he got much severer injures than her.

Since he signed the agreement with her, she can't remember how many he knelt, whether active or passive, and the injuries on his body seemed to be consecutive.

He, who was once full of hostility and pride, seemed to have really been tamed by her?

But why didn't she feel happy?

Thinking it over, it seemed he had almost paid off his debt.

Lyra stopped thinking and pushed the door open.

Seeing that she was coming, Melvin pulled the trouser legs down, tucked himself in the quilt and leaned against the bed waiting for her.

Sitting in the chair next to his bed, she was holding the bowl of porridge and stirring it with a spoon while gently blowing away the heat, with a graceful and gentle gesture.

Melvin looked at her and felt moved.

He licked his pale and thin lips. His dark eyes were flooded with anticipation, and he waited very obediently for her to feed him.

Lyra noticed that he was looking at her but she stayed calm and collected.

Feeling that the porridge in the bowl was not so hot, she handed it to him with the spoon.

Melvin froze, not reaching for it.

"Take it and eat it yourself. I'm not going to feed it to you." Lyra's tone was icy.

Melvin's heart was stung by what she said and he suddenly felt a great sense of loss and grievance.

He didn't pick it up and looked at her with slightly red eyes, "I hurt and can't eat by myself."

Lyra wasted no time in exposing his pretensions, "You hurt your knees, not your hand, so why can't you eat by yourself?"

Melvin was defiant.

"But I have a fever, and I'm dizzy."

Lyra's face was aloof, "You still can speak. Seems your brain has not been burned. If you keep bullshitting, don't eat."

She was going to get up and take the porridge away

Melvin hurriedly grabbed the bowl from her hands. Although she refused to feed him, the porridge was cooked by her own hands at least. It would be quite a loss if he didn't have it.

But when he stuffed a mouthful of the porridge into his mouth, he almost spit it out on the spot.

"Why ... does it smell like paste?"

Lyra was a little embarrassed.

Can she say she forgot the fire because she was thinking about Charlotte?

"Don't eat it if you don't like it. You can cook it yourself later." She reached out to get the bowl.

Melvin ducked to the side, not letting her take it away, with a protective expression.

Then, under Lyra's watchful eye, he took the entire bowl of porridge directly into his mouth.

Melvin resisted the urge to retch and showed her the bowl that he had already emptied the porridge.

Lyra knew it didn't taste good. Looking at him like that, she smiled subconsciously.

But since he had eaten, it was time for the next step.

She took out a piece of paper that Eleven had prepared for her and handed it over calmly.

"Look, sign this."

Melvin took it unaware.

After reading the words on it, he got angry.

"You're breaking your employment agreement with me?!"