Medea’s face was pale as paper as she lay unconscious, her lips completely drained of color. She looked fragile and heartbreakingly delicate.The face he imagined countless times was suddenly right in front of him, close enough to touch, and a faint trace of self-mockery curved at the corner of Cesare’s lips.No matter how many times he warned himself to remain indifferent, the instinct to protect her whenever she was in danger had already become embedded deep in his bones.He knew it might all be fake, and he knew she wasn’t entirely innocent either, but he still couldn’t stay indifferent.“Mr. York, should we take Miss Watts to the hospital immediately?” the secretary asked cautiously.Cesare pressed his lips together and remained silent for a long while. In the end, he removed his own scarf and said indifferently, “Have someone send her back to the Watts family.”…When Medea woke up, she realized she was lying inside a cold, secluded storage room.A gray cashmere scarf had someho
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