Chapter 82 His wife's bones were fractured, and he still carried her up and down the stairs?

The tall men stood in front of the car door, their gazes meeting, as if sparks were flying.

Timothy furrowed his brow and said, "Avila, what you're doing is unfair to Lara."

"After saving her, you can come and talk to me about fairness. Now, get out of the way!"

"... "

Timothy tightened his grip on the car door, and his charming peach blossom eyes gradually turned cold.

Avila's face became even more unpleasant, as if suppressing his anger. His cold and handsome face had an abnormal paleness, giving off a sense of danger and gloom.

"Timothy, I'll only say this once, move aside!"

"... "

Timothy remained motionless.

Lara let out a soft sigh, interrupting the tense atmosphere. She was standing very close to them and gently placed her hand on Timothy's hand, her voice somewhat choked, "I've understood your intentions."

She smiled and continued, "Timothy, let go. This is between him and me. You don't need to get involved."

Timothy's brow furrowed tightly, seemingly hesitant.

Lara patted the back of his hand and said, "Just let go. My knee is hurting. Besides, I need to go to the hospital and apply some medicine."

Timothy sighed and finally let go, realizing that ultimately it was their own business as a married couple. He had already been involved enough as an outsider.

Lara was placed in the back seat by the man, and then he sat down himself.

The car...

Leaving the roadside, Lara turned and glanced at Timothy, who was still standing there. Caught off guard, she found herself embraced by a cold and icy hold.

The man's voice was no different from before, calm and indifferent. "I didn't mean to be late."

"..."

"There was something that held me up."

He rarely explained himself, but this time was different. However, he seemed disdainful of explaining, making his tone extremely harsh.

Lara's arm ached from his tight grip, causing her to speak with displeasure. "If you want me to donate blood for your woman, let me go. Otherwise, believe me, even if you tie me up and take me to the hospital, I have ways to not give her a single drop of blood."

The man stared at her angry little face. "You are my only woman."

Ha!

Lara glared at him, listening to this ridiculous statement. Her anger burned, and she couldn't bear it any longer. It led her to bite down on his wrist.

The man endured her anger without a word, prepared to endure even more of her loss of control. But suddenly, she released her grip.

Avila gazed at her infuriated yet restrained face, feeling an inexplicable annoyance.

She feared him.

Even though she had feared him before.

But now, this fear was more about treading carefully.

"Why did you stop biting?"

"I dare not."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid you'll threaten me."

Stated with casual indifference, not even bothering to be perfunctory, it was simple and straightforward.

Avila's heart felt like it was burning, suffocating, unable to catch its breath. He leaned in to kiss her.

Lara quickly turned her face away, her voice slightly hoarse. "If you want me to save Bella, then don't touch me."

Avila slowly released his grip.

She chuckled lightly, with unmasked sarcasm.

Lara coldly moved to the window, refusing any further communication with him.

He raised his hand, staring at the distinct bite marks on his wrist. They were neither deep nor intense.

All of her reactions were within his expectations, yet somehow different from what he had imagined.

Otherwise, why was it her who was stood up at the wedding, the one who was mocked?

And it was he who felt uneasy.

At the hospital, Lara was forcefully led by him to the blood transfusion area.

Bella lay on the bed, her wrist wrapped in numerous layers of gauze. Her face was ashen, and if it weren't for the faint lines on the electrocardiogram, she could easily pass for dead.

The man carried Lara and placed her on another bed. The nurse approached with a blood bag, disinfecting Lara's arm before inserting the needle into her skin. The blood immediately flowed into the bag, a shocking red.

She averted her gaze, unable to look. But as she turned her head, she met the man's complex and obscure gaze, his cold eyes seemingly struggling with something imperceptible.

Lara smirked. "Mr. Avila, are you concerned for me or for her?"

Avila detached his thoughts and turned to the nurse, "My wife's leg is injured, please check on her."

"Alright, Mr. Avila."

The nurse lifted her long skirt, revealing mottled scars. It was just a scrape, but her fair skin made even a minor injury look shocking.

It was only a small scrape; no bandaging was needed after disinfection. The nurse adjusted her skirt and stood silently on the side.

Four hundred milliliters of blood were quickly drawn, and the nurse immediately took the blood bag to the nearby bed, repeating the same procedure, but this time it was for Bella's transfusion.

Lara sat up, holding her arm at the puncture site. She donated the blood for the transfusion, her face turned pale. When she got out of bed, she felt a momentary dizziness. Before she could regain her senses, the man lifted her up and carried her out of the ward.

She offered no resistance and said nothing, devoid of any expression. Avila held her tightly and walked all the way to the parking lot.

The driver opened the car door, and he gently placed her in the back seat.

"Take Madam home," he ordered in a detached tone.

The driver nodded, "Yes, Mr. Avila."

Once the driver returned to the driver's seat and started the car, Avila remained standing by the car door, not closing the back door. His deep gaze fixed on her. "Don't you want to say something to me?"

Lara leaned her head on the car window, looking outside with a pale face. Her voice was filled with weariness, "I'm tired, I want to go back and sleep, Mr. Avila, please."

While speaking, she didn't look at him, nor did she glance at him after finishing her words, even though he had been standing by the car door.

But even if he stood there forever, she probably wouldn't want to see him.

Not even for a second.

Bang!

The car door closed, and the car drove away from the hospital.

Avila remained in place, his demeanor cold and distant, lost in his own thoughts.

Lennon glanced at the pale man and nodded, "Mr. Avila, the wedding went smoothly, so you can rest assured."

Avila snapped back to reality and turned his head, furrowing his brow. His right hand instinctively touched his left arm, revealing a pained expression.

Lennon was surprised. "Mr. Avila, what happened to you?"

Avila calmly replied, "Just a minor injury."

Lennon had known him for many years and knew that he always had exceptional self-control. If he couldn't bear it, it definitely wasn't a minor injury.

Lennon helped him to the surgical department. After taking off his suit, it was clear that his left arm could hardly be raised.

The doctor furrowed his brow, "The injury is quite severe. Why did you come so late?"

Avila sat expressionless, ignoring the doctor's words.

After taking the X-ray, the results came out in less than twenty minutes.

The doctor held the report, "The bone is fractured, it's best to apply a cast."

Fractured bone?

Lennon was taken aback. The severity of the injury was unimaginable.

Cracked? Did Mr. Avila still carry his wife up and down the stairs?

Doesn't it hurt?

Lennon looked at the man, who showed no emotional response, and felt sorry for him. This was a bone fracture!