Chapter 135 Give Her a Child
Nicholas's towering figure appeared at the restaurant entrance like an avenging angel descending from above.
He wasn't wearing a mask!
His devastatingly handsome, sharply defined features radiated an intimidating chill and noble authority under the crystal chandelier—enough to render anyone speechless with awe.
Emma watched as he strode toward them with purpose, his large hand clamping down like an iron vice on Wesley's wandering hand that had been attempting to violate her!
"Ahh—stop, stop!" Wesley's features contorted in agony as he screamed, "Mr. Harrison! Mr. Harrison! This is a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding! I was just joking around with Miss Nova—you don't need to take it seriously!"
"But I don't enjoy jokes," Nicholas's gaze was cold enough to freeze hellfire itself. "Especially from those who can't keep their hands to themselves."
Without another word, he yanked his arm with explosive force!
Wesley's bulky frame was effortlessly hurled through the air, crashing into a serving cart ten feet away with a thunderous bang. Dishes shattered across the floor in a cacophony of broken porcelain.
Emma stared in stunned silence.
She gazed up at Nicholas in a daze, taking in the strong line of his jaw. She wanted to ask about his injuries, but the words died on her lips.
She couldn't ask. She couldn't expose his previous disguise.
"Scared speechless?" Nicholas turned to her, the bone-deep coldness in his voice instantly melting into barely perceptible tenderness.
Wesley scrambled to his feet awkwardly, his face cycling between red and pale with shock and fury.
He swept his arm dramatically!
Six burly bodyguards burst from various corners, instantly surrounding Nicholas. The atmosphere crackled with deadly tension.
"Nicholas!" Wesley clutched his throbbing wrist, blustering with false bravado, "This is my territory—don't get too cocky!"
Nicholas didn't even spare him a glance, simply pulling Emma behind him with gentle hands, shielding her with his body. His voice turned impossibly tender. "Stay back here so you don't get caught in the crossfire."
Emma's heart trembled, instinctively reaching for his arm. "Don't..."
He was still injured!
Nicholas merely patted her soft hand reassuringly, his tone carrying calming authority.
"It's fine."
The moment the words left his lips, he struck!
Those fierce-looking bodyguards were utterly useless against him!
His punches were devastating, his kicks like whips!
Nicholas moved with lightning speed, each strike targeting vital points with clinical precision and ruthless efficiency.
Within moments, all six towering guards lay groaning on the floor with swollen faces and bruised bodies, unable to rise.
"You... you just wait!" Seeing the carnage, Wesley nearly jumped out of his skin. Abandoning all pretense of dignity, he scrambled away with his remaining men in chaotic retreat.
The restaurant fell momentarily silent.
Nicholas's tense body suddenly swayed.
"Nicholas!" Emma reacted instantly, rushing forward to steady his trembling frame. "Are you alright?"
He shook his head weakly, though cold sweat beaded his forehead and his complexion had turned pale.
Indeed, his wound had reopened. Though he felt no pain, he could sense the sticky warmth spreading across his left shoulder. Thank God he'd worn dark clothing.
Just then, Charlie burst in with a large entourage, surveying the wreckage.
"Mr. Harrison! You fought again!" Seeing Nicholas's condition, Charlie practically bounced with anxiety. "The doctor specifically warned you not to exert yourself—now look what happened! Your wound must have torn open again!"
Only then did he notice Emma nearby, startled. "Mrs. Harrison? What are you doing here?"
Immediately, he turned to her like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline. "Mrs. Harrison, could you help take care of Mr. Harrison? The way he is now, I'm afraid..."
Emma looked at Nicholas's ashen face, her heart clenching. Without hesitation, she nodded. "Of course."
Beneath his lowered lashes, something flickered in Nicholas's eyes—too quick to catch.
"That's wonderful! Could you help him to the car? I'll contact the doctor to meet us at the mansion immediately."
Nicholas's tall, heavy frame leaned most of its weight against Emma's petite body, nearly crushing her.
Sensing this, he discreetly took on more of his own weight, easing her burden.
Once in the car, Nicholas closed his eyes and let his head rest against her shoulder, his breathing labored.
"Sorry," his voice was hoarse with barely concealed weakness. "I'm a bit dizzy."
His warm breath caressed her neck, carrying his distinctive crisp scent.
Emma's body tensed, wanting to push him away, but her hand stopped halfway. After all, he'd just saved her again.
Yesterday, he'd taken a bullet for her...
That heavy debt of gratitude weighed on her chest, making it hard to breathe.
Soon, the car entered an expansive garden surrounding a luxurious mansion with excellent privacy. High-end security systems at the entrance clearly indicated the extraordinary status of its residents.
Emma helped Nicholas from the car and directly upstairs.
After settling him on the bed, Nicholas's face was ghostly pale, looking genuinely distressed.
Indeed, he felt feverish and chilled simultaneously—apparently running a temperature.
"Lie on your stomach. Let me check your wound," Emma's voice carried worry.
"No need. The doctor will be here shortly. I'll have Charlie drive you back."
He didn't want her to see the black, poisoned area spreading across his back—it was too horrific. More importantly, he couldn't let her know this brutal truth.
Soon, Charlie brought the doctor upstairs.
Emma waited in the hallway, the air thick with tension.
After a while, Charlie escorted the doctor downstairs, then returned with a hesitant, fidgety demeanor that made Emma's temples throb with irritation.
"Charlie, if you have something to say, just say it," Emma couldn't stand his obvious internal struggle any longer.
Charlie took a deep breath, summoning more courage than he'd ever mustered in his life, his voice trembling.
"Mrs. Harrison..."
He paused, seeing Emma's expressionless face, then steeled himself.
"Mr. Harrison is badly injured this time. The doctor cleaned his wounds and gave him fever reducers. Could you... could you stay and care for him for a few days?"
After speaking, Charlie nervously swallowed, barely daring to breathe.
Emma frowned, remaining silent.
The atmosphere grew even more awkward.
Seeing her reaction, Charlie panicked and quickly added, "I know this is difficult for you, but Mr. Harrison might... might..."
He forcibly swallowed the cruel truth, his chest aching from the effort.
"Mr. Harrison promised Mr. Robert Harrison he'd bring you back safe and sound. In his current state, he won't be returning to Emerald City anytime soon."
"Mrs. Harrison, when you return, please don't tell Mr. Robert Harrison about his injuries. Just leave him here alone—he's planning to send me away anyway."
Charlie's head drooped like an abandoned puppy, utterly pitiful.
Emma's heart inexplicably softened.
During this trip to Luminous City, he'd saved her three times, each incident life-threatening, resulting in his current injuries.
Just then, Charlie struck while the iron was hot, suddenly producing an exquisite small box from his pocket, presenting it with both hands as if handling a priceless treasure.
"Mrs. Harrison, please look at this!"
Emma accepted it curiously and opened the lid.
Inside lay a small note bearing her signature.
It was the IOU she'd hastily written when he'd helped defend against that cyber attack.
What had she said then? Something about repaying his favor in the future.
On the note, in bold, forceful handwriting that brooked no argument, was a single line.
[I hope you'll stay and celebrate my birthday with me!]
His birthday was next month—about 25 days away.
She didn't know he wouldn't live to see it.
Emma's fingers tightened around the note.
She took a deep breath, as if making a momentous decision. "Prepare a guest room."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Charlie nearly levitated with excitement, nodding enthusiastically, his smile brighter than Luminous City's sunshine.
...
The next morning.
Emma paused on the stairs.
A tall figure emerged from the kitchen.
Nicholas carried a white porcelain plate containing two sunny-side up eggs—hardly perfect in appearance, but at least not burnt.
His casual home clothes had sleeves rolled up, revealing strong, well-defined forearms with smooth, flowing lines.
Emma blinked hard, wondering if she was still dreaming.
Nicholas? Kitchen? Fried eggs?
How did these concepts even fit together?
The scene was too surreal.
Seeing her, Nicholas's slightly tense expression relaxed, his voice carrying the morning's characteristic huskiness yet remaining gentle.
"Come eat breakfast."
Emma's gaze fell on the dining table.
A bowl of meat porridge that had clearly simmered for hours, accompanied by crisp green vegetables and those two sunny-side up eggs.
She approached and pulled out a chair, asking incredulously, "Did you make all this?"
Nicholas placed the eggs before her with studied casualness.
"The staff requested time off, so I gave it a try."
He paused, adding, "Looks decent enough."
In the corner, Charlie's mouth twitched. Gave it a try? That was the result of battling from five to eight in the morning.
Poor man had been forced to taste over a dozen eggs.
He never wanted to see another egg in his lifetime. The thought alone triggered another wave of nausea.
Emma sat down quietly and tried a piece of the egg.
"Not bad." She nodded approvingly.
She never imagined she'd live to eat a sunny-side up egg made by Nicholas.
"Try this porridge." Nicholas ladled half a bowl for her, placing it within reach.
Emma lifted her spoon and tasted it—the flavor was acceptable too.
"I used to wonder why ordinary couples would wake up early to cook breakfast for their beloved. Now I understand what that feeling is like." He spoke calmly, appearing nonchalant, yet deeply moved.
Only in this moment did he truly comprehend what simple happiness meant.
Perhaps it was morning porridge, afternoon rain, or this imperfect but adequately flavored fried egg before them.
Emma set down her spoon, looking at him seriously. "Nicholas, I'm staying to care for you only out of gratitude for saving me—nothing more!"
She stood, adding, "We're no longer married. You don't need to do these meaningless things."
Her tone carried deliberate distance as she turned and left.
Nicholas watched her retreating figure, his chest tight with pain. Only now did he understand how deep the knife he'd once driven into her heart truly was.
She'd barely touched that porridge—just one sip.
He forced himself to drink some, realizing the porridge had no taste whatsoever.
"Charlie!"
Charlie rushed from his corner hiding spot. "Mr. Harrison? You called?"
He pushed the untouched second bowl toward Charlie. "Taste this porridge—did I forget to add salt?"
Charlie quickly took two spoonfuls, chewing thoughtfully before responding, "No, sir, the flavor's perfect—not too salty, not too bland."
Nicholas's eyes widened in shock. He rushed to the kitchen and poured white vinegar directly into his mouth.
The vinegar tasted like water. He knew his sense of taste had vanished, just like his life slowly ebbing away.
Suddenly, a strange sensation overwhelmed him. His eyes turned fierce, temples pounding violently.
Charlie approached nervously. "Mr. Harrison, are you alright? Could Mrs. Harrison still be dwelling on that child?"
"Then I'll give her another child."
His tone was ice-cold, a barely controllable rage rising from within as he strode upstairs with determined steps.