Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar-Chapter 99 - 97: Crashing into a Pair of Smiling Eyes (Part 1)

Chapter 99: Chapter 97: Crashing into a Pair of Smiling Eyes (Part 1)

Nora Ainsworth slowly turned her gaze to the window. The sunlight was brilliant. It was another beautiful day.

Originally, it was just a fractured leg, and she could move the rest of her body.

But now, if she even tried to move, the nerves screaming throughout her body brought on a pain that was pure agony.

If she hadn’t managed to tumble into the back seat at the last second, protecting her chest and the back of her head, she might have died in the driver’s seat.

Recalling the helplessness and terror of being trapped in the car, Nora Ainsworth still felt incredibly small.

’It was pure luck that I didn’t die this time. If there’s a next time, will I be able to escape?’

Half an hour later, Yvonne came in with a bowl of porridge for breakfast and placed it on the table.

Just as she was about to leave, Nora Ainsworth called out, "Wait."

Yvonne turned back. "Is there something else?"

"I can’t move at all. If you don’t feed me, how am I supposed to eat?"

A smirk touched Yvonne’s lips. "I’m only responsible for bringing it to you. As for how you eat it, or whether you can eat it at all, that’s your problem."

"Fine. No problem." Nora Ainsworth continued, "When Quentin gets back, I’ll tell him exactly what you said."

Yvonne scoffed. "The Young Master already made arrangements before he left. He’s going abroad on business for three or four days, maybe even a week. He told us to take proper care of you, but I really can’t stand seeing you wrap him around your finger just because you’re good in bed. You should watch your step."

Nora Ainsworth watched her close the door, staring helplessly at the bowl of hot porridge on the table, unable to do anything.

Less than two minutes later, Yvonne returned. She picked up the bowl and huffed, "If the butler hadn’t scolded me, I wouldn’t be feeding you."

She scooped up a spoonful of hot porridge and forced it into Nora Ainsworth’s mouth. It was so hot that Nora choked and coughed, her lips instantly turning red from the burn.

Yvonne scooped up another spoonful, but Nora Ainsworth clamped her mouth shut. "Can’t you see it’s hot? Put it on the table first."

"Who do you think you are, my mistress? So demanding. A moment ago you were dying for me to feed you, so why aren’t you eating now? If you won’t eat, I’ll make you eat."

When Nora Ainsworth refused to open her mouth, Yvonne took the spoonful and poured it right down her neck.

The feeling of being completely at someone’s mercy was etched into Nora Ainsworth’s bones.

"Yvonne, you’d better pray I never get out of this bed," she replied in a low voice.

"You never will." Then, she tried to dump the entire bowl on Nora Ainsworth’s face, but her wrist was grabbed by a hand wrapped in blood-soaked gauze. The grip released just as suddenly. The bowl in Yvonne’s hand fell with a CRASH, shattering on the floor and splattering the remaining porridge everywhere.

"You—" Yvonne flew into a rage, clearly startled.

"Get out!"

Yvonne sullenly cleaned up the shards and left.

Nora Ainsworth pulled her phone out from her chest, her hand screaming with a burning pain. She dialed Herman Hawthorne’s number.

"Chief, I’m at Quentin Grant’s place. Please, come get me out of here." She used almost all the strength she had left.

Herman Hawthorne heard that something was wrong and drove to Quentin Grant’s company.

"What’s wrong with Nora?"

Quentin Grant was just about to grab his laptop to go home and work. He looked slightly surprised at the question. "She called you?"

Herman Hawthorne frowned. "Her voice didn’t sound right."

"She was in a car accident last night." Quentin Grant stepped into the elevator. "Let’s talk on the way."

By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, Herman Hawthorne had heard the whole harrowing story of the previous night.

He was in disbelief. "Catherine... how could she be so insane?"

Quentin Grant was silent for a moment. "Who can say what goes on in a woman’s mind? Maybe she couldn’t accept it, or maybe she’s just possessive."

"You don’t even think about why she feels those things. Catherine loves you too much."

Quentin Grant said no more. When it came to this topic, he always shut down.

Some things, once lost, could never be recovered.

It was the first time Quentin Grant had ever come home early, before the end of the workday. He had clearly said he was going abroad on business before he left, so his sudden return scared Yvonne half to death.

She trembled behind the butler for a long time without uttering a single word.

Quentin Grant and Herman Hawthorne went upstairs together.

When the bedroom door opened, Herman Hawthorne could hardly believe his eyes. It had only been a few days, but the sight of Nora Ainsworth’s haggard face filled him with pity.

"Nora, are you okay?"

But Nora Ainsworth shot her gaze at Quentin Grant. "Weren’t you supposed to be going abroad on business? Why are you back?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It was a trip I had to take, but then I considered that if I left and you died here, I’d have to find a new woman. Too much trouble. How did you know?"

Nora Ainsworth didn’t answer him, instead looking at Herman Hawthorne. "Thank you for coming, Chief."

"What are you saying? You’re my girlfriend, at least in name. Is that... rice on your neck?" Herman Hawthorne frowned.

Quentin Grant moved closer and pulled at her collar. A patch of her neck was red from a burn, and several grains of cooked rice were still stuck to her skin.

"Young Master Grant, it seems this place isn’t safe the moment you leave. Why don’t I take Nora to my house in the Riverbend District? I’m not busy these days, so I can cook for her and take care of her."

"Herman, go downstairs and gather the servants from the first floor in the living room. I’ll question them myself."

Herman Hawthorne nodded and quickly left, heading downstairs and closing the door behind him.

Their eyes met. "You called Herman because you knew I was going abroad?"

A sarcastic smile touched Nora Ainsworth’s lips. "This little life of mine still has a lot left to do. It would be a real shame to die here just like that. I’m not ready for that. Of course I’m going to prioritize my survival."

"I’m not leaving." He took out a first-aid kit, unwrapped the gauze on her right hand, and re-bandaged it with a clean one. "If only for the fact that I want you to stay alive."

"It’s surprising to hear you say that, and yet, not surprising at all."

"Just lie still and don’t move. I’m going downstairs for a bit. I’ll be back up." He pulled the thin blanket over her and then went downstairs.

Five or six servants were already gathered in the living room, all of them looking extremely uneasy.

Quentin Grant came down and asked directly, "Who brought Miss Ainsworth her breakfast this morning?"

Several pairs of eyes immediately shifted to Yvonne.

The butler spoke up. "Young Master, Yvonne delivered it. She didn’t feed Miss Ainsworth after she took it up, so I had to remind her again."

Quentin Grant walked over to Yvonne. His natural air of nobility was on full display, creating an invisible layer of pressure.

"It was you?" His tone was icy.

Yvonne nodded. "I’m the one who took it up."

Quentin Grant reached out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze. "You’ve got some nerve. Who gave you the right to pour food down Miss Ainsworth’s neck?"

The others were all shocked to hear this.

The butler was furious, but he didn’t dare say anything at that moment.

A muscle twitched in Yvonne’s face, her lips trembling. "I... I wasn’t paying attention and it spilled. I didn’t do it on purpose."