Chapter88 Hello, Ma'am
Miranda turned around, only then realizing Clifton was calling those men at the door.
She immediately understood.
They hadn't gone to the wrong place. The person they were looking for was Clifton.
Clifton strode to the door, first glancing at Miranda still standing on one foot. His brow furrowed and his tone unconsciously softened. "Is it tiring to stand like that? Get back in bed first."
Then he turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the men at the door with a warning glare before stepping aside to let them in.
The men walked in and, seeing Miranda already sitting back on the bed, became even more nervous. They bowed in unison.
"Hello, Ma'am!"
Their voices were loud, perfectly synchronized, nearly shaking the ceiling.
Miranda was startled by this display, looking at Clifton somewhat helplessly.
Clifton explained, "My subordinates. They heard you were injured and came to check on you."
Miranda understood and quickly smiled at them. "Hello. Thank you for coming to see me."
A few minutes later, Miranda had warmed up to these straightforward men.
They were cautious at first, but seeing Miranda's easy temperament with no trace of haughty heiress attitude, they gradually grew bolder, even beginning to complain in front of Clifton.
"You have no idea how inhuman our captain is when training us!" one of the most lively team members accused.
"Five-kilometer weighted runs are appetizers, mud pit combat is routine. We suspect he found us in a dumpster."
Another immediately agreed. "Exactly! Last time I just dislocated my shoulder, he looked at it once, popped it right back in, then coldly said 'continue.' I nearly cried."
Miranda listened to them talking over each other, unable to help laughing, her smile softening the pallor in her face.
"I'm afraid I can't help you there," she said with a laugh. "I can only offer you moral and material support."
She shifted her tone, becoming more serious. "Your work is dangerous. His being strict with you is for your own good, to give you better odds of surviving when you're on missions."
Her words warmed the men's hearts and earned their respect.
The team member who first complained looked at Miranda, then at their captain washing fruit nearby, and sighed admiringly.
"Captain is so lucky to marry such a reasonable and beautiful wife."
As he finished speaking, Clifton walked over carrying two fruit plates.
He handed one with fruit cut into small pieces and prepared with toothpicks to Miranda, then set the other, with unpeeled fruit, heavily on the coffee table in front of his team.
"Eat."
The team member looked at the drastically different treatment between the two plates and complained loudly. "Boss, isn't this too biased? Why is Ma'am's all cut up while we have to do it ourselves?"
Clifton glanced at him coolly.
"If you also end up lying in a hospital bed covered in injuries," he said slowly, "I'll personally cut and feed you. Believe it?"
The team member felt his scalp tingle under that gaze, immediately backing down. He grabbed an apple and stuffed it in his mouth, mumbling, "No need, Captain! I can do it myself!"
Inwardly though, he was frantically thinking: Today's captain is unbelievably gentle. When do they ever get fruit personally washed by the captain? They should be grateful just not to be trained to death.
Miranda watched them banter, her smile deepening.
She said to Clifton, "The doctor said these are just superficial wounds. After a couple days' rest, I'll be fine. I can be discharged tomorrow. You're so busy with work, you don't need to come specially to look after me tomorrow."
As soon as she finished, the team members immediately started making noise.
"Discharge is great! Ma'am, the captain was really inconsiderate not telling us about such a big thing as getting married. He has to treat us."
"Right, he has to treat us to celebrate Ma'am's recovery and discharge."
Miranda felt a bit embarrassed by their words and instinctively looked at Clifton, her eyes carrying a hint of inquiry.
After all, only the two of them knew they had a fake marriage, and she wasn't these men's real captain’s lady
This meal, she didn't know whether to agree to it.
Clifton received her look and spoke, his thin lips parting slightly. "If you have time, that's fine."
Getting his approval, Miranda immediately smiled and agreed. "Alright, then tomorrow I'll treat everyone to dinner to thank you for coming to see me today."
She could see clearly that when these men came in, they were all carrying things, either imported fruit or high-end supplements. In any case, she should return the gesture.
"Great!"
Hearing their agreement, the team members immediately cheered quietly, still remembering they were in a hospital and keeping their voices down.
After sitting for a while, the team members tactfully said goodbye.
Clifton looked down at Miranda on the bed, his voice carrying a hint of subtle amusement.
"It seems you've adapted well to being my wife."
Hearing him say this, Miranda unconsciously rubbed her fingers together.
"This is what I should do. I can't embarrass you in front of your subordinates."
Hearing this, Clifton curved his lips, emotions indiscernible in his deep eyes.
"I have a mission tonight. I'll see you at the restaurant tomorrow."
Miranda looked up at the man. "Okay. My injury is almost healed. Don't worry about me."
After Clifton left, the room became quiet, but Miranda inexplicably felt the air still carried traces of the man's crisp, pleasant scent.
...
The next morning, after completing her discharge procedures, Miranda used her phone to book a private room at a high-end restaurant in the city center.
This restaurant had excellent privacy and exceptional food, perfect for hosting.
Near noon, Miranda changed into an appropriate dress and drove to the restaurant.
As soon as she entered, she found Clifton and his team members had already arrived and were sitting together chatting.
Seeing her enter, they all immediately stood up. The most lively team member from yesterday grinned first.
"Ma'am's here!"
Miranda felt a bit embarrassed by the address but still smiled and nodded, sitting in the empty seat beside Clifton.
"There was some traffic. Sorry to keep you waiting." She passed the menu over, speaking graciously. "Please don't be shy. Order whatever you'd like."
"Great! We won't hold back then,Ma'am."
The team members responded enthusiastically, the atmosphere warm and harmonious.
Their cheerful voices carried through the half-open door and happened to reach Harrison's ears at the next table.