No More Waiting, She Chooses Love -
Chapter 690
"Owe you one!"
Phipps's response was direct, reminding me of his previous misunderstanding of me.
"So, how come you just happened to appear when I was in danger? Should I doubt it was a setup by you?" I threw his own words back at him.
Phipps's expression remained unchanged, his gaze fixed straight ahead. "Sorry, I misunderstood you."
I was taken aback. Did he realize it so quickly?
"I overheard that hefty guy on the phone earlier. Today's mess was orchestrated by Mr. Dustin from the Wagner Group," Phipps said, leaving me stunned. But I distinctly remembered the man mentioning Conrad. "You don't believe me?" Phipps looked at me. "I recorded it."
He handed me his phone, which lit up as I took it. I played the recording.
[Mr. Wagner, the deed is done. Ms. Hudson mistook little Mr. Wagner for...]
My hands trembled slightly, astonished at how deep Dustin's scheming ran, resorting to such deceit.
It must be because Conrad hasn't given up on me, making Dustin feel threatened again!
It reminded me of the time Ernest got into trouble. That setup was meant to trap Ernest, Conrad, and Jefferson Daniels all at once...
Dustin, in his obsession with winning me over, had become so deranged he couldn't even tolerate his own brother.
If he couldn't have me, would he go as far as to harm me?
Such an extreme person might destroy what he can't possess!
A shiver ran down my spine. Dustin always appeared so affable and friendly; how could he turn out like this?
What changed him?
Or had he been masquerading all along, deceiving everyone with his pretense of goodness?
I remained silent all the way to the hospital. When the car stopped, Phipps asked, "Who do you think tried to hit you just now?" Huh?
His question caught me off guard. I had almost forgotten about that incident.
The memory of the dangerous
moment flashed before my eyes, the car clearly targeting me. If it weren't for Phipps, I might have been hit or worse.
But who would want me dead?
I haven't wronged anyone recently, have I?
"Let's get out. You should get that injury checked first," Phipps interrupted my thoughts, opening the car door for me.
As I stepped out, my already injured knee buckled, nearly causing me to fall, but Phipps caught me.
Once I steadied myself, I withdrew my hand and asked, "Are you hurt? Which department should we go to?"
"Just follow me, and you'll see," he said, leading the way.
He took me to the emergency department, asking me to wait. At that moment, I felt like I was the one injured, yet he moved as if unharmed. What was he here to check?
Just as I pondered, a nurse called me in. As I entered the treatment room, the nurse asked me to sit and extend my hand. "For what?" I asked, confused.
"Your finger was cut by glass. We need to remove the fragments," the nurse explained, leaving me dumbfounded. Then, Phipps walked in.
He handed the payment slip to the nurse, who then remarked, "Your girlfriend is scared and uncooperative. Can you help?"
Such misunderstandings were common, and for someone who'd been in a couple of relationships, this hardly fazed me.
Yet, I felt oddly uneasy and quickly denied, "No, we're not..."
Before I could finish, Phipps cut me off, "Give me your hand."
I hesitated, but he had already taken my hand and turned it over. "Look here."
There was a stain of blood on the pad of my left middle finger. I had noticed it when I touched him earlier but hadn't paid much attention.
QUMS
"There are glass shards inside. If we don't remove them, it will keep hurting and could get infected," Phipps explained as he brought my hand closer to the nurse, then he held my wrist.
He was so close I could smell the fresh scent of his shampoo.
So close that I could clearly see his neck, clean and unmarked, unlike Ernest's mole, nor any sign of mole removal.
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