Chapter49 Clifton Saved Me
Hearing her comfort him in return intensified the guilt and tenderness in Harrison's heart.
He leaned over and gently tucked the blanket around Ariana, his voice softening. "Don't overthink this. Get some good rest. Nothing is more important than your health."
He stayed with Ariana until she fell asleep, then walked out of the room and called the restaurant manager.
When he heard that Miranda had been taken away by an ambulance, the heavy stone in Harrison's heart finally dropped.
Thank goodness, she was okay.
At the City Center Hospital, outside the operating room.
Clifton had resumed his seat in the wheelchair, restoring his cold, detached, and "disabled" appearance.
He waited alone by the door with the red light on. His back was straight, and the low pressure around him made passing nurses instinctively walk around.
Time ticked by. After an unknown period, the door he had been staring at finally opened.
A doctor in a white coat walked out, removing his mask with a hint of fatigue on his face.
Clifton instantly slid his wheelchair in front of him. He looked up, his deep eyes swirling with suppressed emotion.
His voice was hoarse when he spoke.
"How is she?"
The doctor, with post-op weariness but professional relief in his eyes, looked at the man on the wheelchair whose presence was chillingly low. He spoke calmly. "Clifton, please be assured. Miranda's surgery was very successful. The broken ribs have been set and fixed, and the internal bleeding is stopped. She lost a lot of blood and the impact was significant, so she's very weak. She needs about a month of strict rest. No bumps or falls at all."
The tight line of Clifton's jaw relaxed a fraction when he heard the words, "surgery was very successful."
Unaware to himself, the breath he had been holding in his chest since rushing to the top floor was silently exhaled at that moment.
"Got it," he nodded, his voice still hoarse.
Inside the luxury patient room, the only sound was the faint beeping of the monitoring equipment.
Clifton controlled his wheelchair, stopping at the bedside. His gaze fixed on the sleeping woman.
Miranda's face was as pale as paper, devoid of color. The eyes that were usually cool and stubborn were tightly closed. Her long, dense eyelashes cast a small, vulnerable shadow beneath her eyelids.
Stripped of all her defenses, she looked like fragile porcelain, emitting a heartbreaking sense of brokenness.
Clifton's eyes darkened. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
The call was answered immediately.
"Sir."
"Go and investigate," Clifton's voice was ice-cold. "Everything that happened on the top floor of the Michelin restaurant last night. I want to know every detail. Especially why that iron pillar fell."
"Yes."
After hanging up, silence returned to the room.
Clifton watched her, sleepless all night.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the blind slits, casting dappled shadows on the floor.
Miranda's eyelids fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes.
She saw the pure white ceiling. A faint smell of disinfectant wafted into her nose, and the soreness throughout her body reminded her that she was alive.
She turned her head, slightly confused, and her sight settled.
By the window, Clifton sat in his wheelchair, seemingly asleep. His head was slightly bowed, and the morning light framed his harsh profile with a soft, golden edge.
The memory of her near-death experience from last night rushed back like a tide.
Harrison's determined back as he left with Ariana.
And...
Just before losing consciousness, she had heard Clifton's voice.
This man had saved her life.
A complex, unspeakable emotion surged in her chest. Miranda instinctively propped herself up, attempting to sit up.
She wanted to get out of bed and grab him a blanket, seeing he was uncovered and had slept all night in the wheelchair.
However, the moment she moved, the man with his eyes closed seemed to sense it and snapped them open.
Their eyes met, and the air seemed to freeze for a second.
Clifton watched her struggling to sit up. His brows instantly furrowed into a frown, and his tone was an undeniable command. "Lie still. Don't move."
After saying that, he slid the wheelchair to the bedside and pressed the call button.
Soon, the doctor and nurses rushed in.
After a thorough checkup, the doctor looked pleased. "Clifton, don't worry. Miranda has a good constitution, and the surgery recovery is excellent. But remember, rest is key. Please make sure she rests."
After the doctor and nurses left, Miranda looked at Clifton. Her voice was slightly hoarse from not speaking for a while, but genuinely sincere. "Clifton, thank you. If it weren't for you, I would have..."
She paused, suppressing the lingering fear, and simply explained. "It was my company's celebration dinner last night, dining with my employees. I didn't expect such an accident."
"It wasn't an accident."
Clifton's simple statement exploded in Miranda's mind.
She looked up at him sharply.
Clifton's gaze was calm as water. He told her the results of the overnight investigation. "The screws securing that iron pillar that fell yesterday showed signs of being deliberately loosened."
"I've had people check the restaurant surveillance. A waiter did it, but he bought a plane ticket and fled the country last night. The investigation is ongoing."
Deliberate?
Miranda's heart sank instantly.
Ariana was the first person she thought of.
Recalling how Ariana deliberately blocked her from leaving yesterday, that sugary smile seemed to hide malice.
But... Ariana's leg was also injured. It didn't seem like her.
Yet, she hadn't offended anyone else. Besides Ariana and Harrison, who would use such a malicious method to try and take her life?
All at once, Miranda felt her mind spinning, and her head began to ache.
She decided to stop thinking about it.
Just then, breakfast arrived: warm congee.
Clifton took the tray and naturally scooped up a spoonful, offering it to Miranda's lips.
Miranda froze. She instinctively reached out to take it. "I can manage myself."
"The doctor said you need to focus on rest," Clifton insisted, effortlessly avoiding her hand with a subtle forcefulness.
Miranda couldn't argue with him and opened her mouth.
One spoonful, two spoonfuls...
The way the man fed her was not gentle, perhaps even a bit clumsy, but he was patient.
Miranda was hungry after going through so much the previous night, but her appetite wasn't great. She ate a little less than half a bowl and shook her head. "I can't eat anymore."
Clifton looked at the remaining congee. Without blinking, he picked up the spoon she had just used and, eating straight from the bowl, finished the rest of the congee in a few mouthfuls.
He came from a top-tier wealthy family, yet he performed the action without any hint of distaste, completely naturally.
He had carried out missions with his team in the worst environments. Forget a bowl of hot congee; sometimes they didn't even have a sip of clean water. He never had the habit of wasting food.
Miranda’s face flushed instantly.
He... he used the same spoon as her!
Did that mean they had just... indirectly kissed?