Chapter 150 The Supporting Doctor Team Arrives
Emma's eyes filled with tears. After a long silence, she finally answered, "Nicholas, when your birthday comes, I'll give you my answer."
He froze, unable to hide the disappointment in his eyes.
"Alright." He nodded.
He knew she was hoping he'd overcome this crisis. But he wasn't certain he'd be lucky enough to see that day.
"Nicholas, you will live to see that day," her voice carried absolute certainty. "Promise me you won't give up."
Her voice was gentle, yet filled with unwavering strength.
"I'll try," his voice was hoarse, those cold eyes flickering with desperate light.
He gently pulled his hand away and turned toward the main house, too broken to stay in her presence any longer.
Perhaps he just wanted to escape to somewhere she couldn't see his weakness.
Emma wiped the blood from her palm with a tissue, then forked a piece of cake and put it in her mouth. She chewed slowly—it was bitter—but she swallowed it anyway, continuing to eat.
Tears finally spilled from her eyes.
She looked up, breathing desperately. The sky was completely dark, not a single star visible.
She believed his darkness would eventually pass.
The next morning, Emma came downstairs wearing casual clothes, her long hair loosely cascading over her shoulders with a lazy elegance.
The dining room was filled with the aroma of an elaborate breakfast spread across the long mahogany table. But the chairs sat empty—no Nicholas, no Charlie.
She was puzzling over their absence when urgent footsteps echoed down the staircase.
Charlie rushed down, sweat beading his forehead, his expression barely containing his panic.
"Mrs. Harrison!" His voice trembled. "Please go check on Mr. Harrison!"
He paused, then added with difficulty, "But you need to prepare yourself."
Emma's heart clenched as if gripped by an invisible hand.
"What happened?" Her voice tightened. Without another thought, she hurried upstairs.
Nicholas stood at the far end of the second-floor hallway, his back to the morning light, radiating an aura that warned others to keep away.
He wore a dark silk robe, the collar slightly open, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbone. But his handsome face was stormy with a darkness that suggested he'd just had a considerable outburst.
Emma approached quietly, keeping her voice calm and gentle. "Nicholas, what's wrong?"
She reached out to take his hand. "Come downstairs with me. Let's have breakfast."
"Mrs. Harrison, don't touch him!" Charlie shouted from behind, fear lacing his voice.
Emma's hand froze mid-air.
But Nicholas moved first, his hand reaching out to grasp hers with unerring accuracy.
His palm was broad and warm, though his grip was a bit too tight as he enveloped her smaller hand.
Then those deep eyes turned toward Charlie, his expression still dark as he lifted his chin and asked Emma, "Who is this? One of your people?"
Emma was completely stunned.
She turned to look at Charlie, whose face was so dejected he looked ready to cry.
Indeed, when Nicholas woke up this morning, he couldn't call Charlie by name. Later, when Nicholas found Charlie in his room, he'd treated him like a complete stranger and thrown him out!
Emma's heart sank. She looked at Nicholas carefully. "You don't recognize him?"
Nicholas studied Charlie with a gaze full of scrutiny and impatience. After a long moment, he asked coldly, "Should I?"
Emma realized his memory neurons must be malfunctioning.
She took a deep breath, forcing her expression to appear natural. "Charlie is my assistant. I just hired him and haven't had a chance to mention it yet."
Nicholas glanced at Charlie with disdain and judgment.
"Fire him," his tone brooked no argument. "Get a woman instead. Having a male assistant—what kind of impression does that give?"
Charlie's heart shattered on the spot. He opened his mouth but couldn't voice his grievance.
Emma quickly nodded, going along with him. "Alright, alright. Whatever you say. I'll let him go in a couple days."
She gently shook the hand holding hers, her voice tender. "Let me walk you to breakfast. It's a beautiful day."
Nicholas's expression finally softened somewhat, and he agreed.
Hand in hand, they walked downstairs together.
In the dining room, Emma personally ladled a bowl of fragrant meat porridge and placed it before him.
Nicholas picked up his spoon, took one mouthful, and immediately frowned. "Why didn't you add salt?"
Emma's heart lurched. She tasted the porridge herself—it was perfectly seasoned, clearly salted.
Stunned, she set down her bowl. "Maybe they forgot. Let me add some salt for you."
She turned toward the kitchen.
When she returned, she carried a glass of water. "Here, drink this first."
Nicholas didn't question it, taking the glass and drinking several gulps.
Emma watched his reaction intently, unable to hide her distress.
That glass contained much more than warm water—she'd added a large spoonful of sugar and vinegar.
Clearly, he'd lost not only his sense of taste but his sense of smell as well.
Emma fought to suppress the bitter ache rising in her chest, keeping her voice gentle.
"Do you remember the first time I cooked for you?"
Nicholas seemed to drift into memory, warmth flickering in his eyes. "Of course. In the apartment. You made pasta. It was delicious."
Emma nodded, forcing a smile. "Wait here then. I'll make some for you. Don't eat the porridge."
"Perfect." His eyes lit with undisguised anticipation.
Soon, Emma brought out a steaming bowl of pasta, aromatic and beautifully presented.
She set it before him.
Nicholas eagerly picked up his fork, taking a large bite without hesitation.
The next second, his chewing stopped. His expression froze for just an instant, but Emma caught it.
"What's wrong? Doesn't it taste good?" she asked with forced lightness, her heart clenching.
"No," he immediately shook his head, his smile returning though somewhat strained. "It's delicious."
Then he bent his head and continued eating methodically, one bite after another.
Emma's pasta contained no salt at all—not even basic seasoning.
Whether she salted it or not, he would finish every bite.
He simply didn't want to see her hurt.
After eating, Nicholas grew increasingly weak. After changing his bandages, he fell into a deep sleep.
Emma sat beside the bed, studying his peaceful sleeping face—his straight nose, pressed lips that retained a sharp edge even in slumber.
She reached out, gently tracing his features, her heart a tangle of emotions.
Her phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message.
Evelyn: [Emma, how is Nicholas doing?]
Emma: [Not well. I'm trying to remake the antidote.]
Evelyn: [Do you need me to come keep you company?]
Emma: Don't travel right now. It's dangerous out there. I'll call if I need anything.]
Evelyn: [Take care of yourself. Miss you.]
Emma: [You too.]
Setting down her phone, Evelyn went to the dining room for lunch. The moment she saw the meat dishes, nausea hit her hard. She ran to the bathroom and vomited.
Emerging pale-faced, she suddenly realized her period was over a week late. A troubling suspicion crept into her mind.
She quickly called Hawk, but no one answered. He hadn't come home last night—since she'd moved into this house, he'd never stayed out all night.
Had something happened? Was he injured again? Unease gripped her.
She asked a bodyguard about Hawk's whereabouts. He was at the Castle.
So she had them drive her to Los Castle immediately.
At noon, Charlie returned from outside in a rush.
Seeing Emma, he hurried over.
"Mrs. Harrison, the experts Mr. Harrison hired have arrived. They're settled in the two villas down the mountain. A basic laboratory is being set up—they need you to coordinate and brief them on the situation."
"Mr. Harrison wants them to help you remake the antidote."
Joy surged through Emma. "Really? That's wonderful. Let's go now."
Just then, footsteps echoed from the staircase.
Nicholas descended wearing casual clothes, his pace steady and composed despite his pallor.
Hearing Charlie's words, he raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying the authority and displeasure of someone in command. "Can't you handle such a simple matter? What am I paying you for?"
Charlie was completely stunned by this sudden lucidity.
He stepped forward tentatively. "Mr. Harrison, do you recognize me?"
Nicholas shot him a sharp, familiar look tinged with impatience. "Charlie, are you looking to retire back to Emerald City?"
Hearing his name spoken clearly from Nicholas's lips with that familiar tone and expression, Charlie nearly wept with relief.
"Mr. Harrison!" His voice choked with emotion, eyes instantly red. "I'm not going anywhere! I'll follow you for life!"
Thank God—Mr. Harrison remembered him!
Emma stood watching this dramatic scene, her eyes flickering thoughtfully.
So it was intermittent memory disruption—he would suddenly forget certain fragments.
Nicholas approached Emma, naturally taking her hand, his palm's warmth reassuring her.
He looked at her with focused intensity. "I've brought in the world's best neural biology experts. You'll need to coordinate the work arrangements. Tell Charlie whatever you need—he'll handle it."
His voice was deep and magnetic, carrying unshakeable confidence.
Half the weight lifted from Emma's heart.
"Alright." She nodded firmly, tears gathering in her eyes.
Susan's team would arrive soon too.
With two elite expert teams working together, they could definitely create another antidote in time.
When she reached the villa, she met the six promising specialists—five men and one woman.
Seeing Dr. N, they crowded around excitedly.
"Ms. Rodriguez, it's such a pleasure to meet you!"
"Ms. Rodriguez, working with you is the honor of my lifetime!"
Everyone chimed in enthusiastically with greetings.
Emma shook hands with each of them, her gaze pausing momentarily before breaking into a warm smile.
"Thank you all for making time to come. We have an urgent project that we'll complete together. Let's head to the laboratory."
"Absolutely."
"That sounds perfect."
Jane Baker watched Emma's retreating figure, a barely perceptible flash of malice in her eyes.
'Dr. N, I've finally found you!'