The midday sky was exceptionally clear, with white clouds drifting away to reveal the brilliant sunshine.
The sheer white curtains gently swayed, letting the light spill through the floor-to-ceiling windows, accompanied by the fresh scent of flowers, waking the beauty who slept on the bed.
Isabella Weaver opened her eyes, feeling momentarily bewildered.
"Isabella!"
"Mr. Hunter? Am I in..."
Isabella Weaver came to her senses, realizing she was in Harry Hunter's villa.
"Did you take me here from the hospital?"
"Yes."
Harry Hunter nodded, stepped forward to help her sit up, took a glass of warm water, and brought it to her lips: "Drink some water first, Aunt Hart cooked porridge; I'll feed you later."
Isabella Weaver smiled softly and reached to take the glass: "I can do it myself..."
Before she could finish the word "do", her smile vanished.
"What happened to my hand?"
She anxiously broke free from Harry Hunter's embrace, her eyes instantly turning red!
