How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

Stuart had been through this kind of minor scrapes more times than he could count. But there was Morwenna, visibly distressed on the sidelines, unable to contain her worry as she said to Fletcher, "Be careful. He's lost a lot of blood."

"Don't worry, it's just superficial. A bit of blood is no big deal," Fletcher reassured her.

"But even superficial wounds hurt!"

Fletcher paused for a moment.

Was Stuart afraid of pain?

To Stuart, toughness was a virtue, both towards others and himself.

In their world, the end always justified the means. Discomfort was irrelevant.

Here was Morwenna, worried about Stuart feeling pain.

Fletcher found himself at a loss for words.

Was Stuart that good at masking his pain or was Morwenna just too naive?

At that moment, Morwenna was oblivious to Stuart’s control and Fletcher’s pity. All she saw was Stuart’s wound, feeling almost more pain than if the injury were on her own body.

It wasn't until the shards of glass were removed and placed blood-soaked on a tray that Morwenna finally let out a long sigh of relief.

Fletcher teased, “Mrs. Hetfield, what's with the staring? You can look at Stuart’s naked body at home. Now, could you please find a nurse and get a new hospital gown? Stuart’s a bit of a clean freak. He’d probably rather walk out naked than wear that bloody shirt again.”

“Oh… okay,” Morwenna blushed and scurried out of the room.

Fletcher smirked cunningly.

Suddenly, Stuart spoke, “Don’t tease her.”

Fletcher raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Morwenna quickly returned with the hospital gown, visibly embarrassed yet tiptoeing to help Stuart dress, careful not to touch his wounds.

Her delicate manner left Fletcher shaking his head in disbelief.

Going all the way, Fletcher offered, “Stuart, I’ll come to Windcharm Villas tomorrow to change your dressing. Remember, the wound shouldn't get wet for a few days. Should I arrange for someone to stay at Windcharm Villas to look after you?”

Stuart, never one to stay in the hospital unless absolutely necessary, seemed too impatient to respond, saying, “No need.”

Fletcher exaggerated his concern, “How can you manage without help? If the wound gets infected, it could be serious.”

Morwenna, overhearing this, looked nearly on the verge of tears with worry.

She knew Stuart disliked anyone staying at Windcharm Villas, but she thought maybe she should go and take care of him herself.

It was obvious from her gaze, easy for anyone to read. Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

Fletcher was smiling softly, like a sly fox that had just pulled off a sneaky trick.

See, Morwenna was already willing to go back.

He had always said it was easy to make a woman stay.

But upon seeing Morwenna’s sincere and bright eyes, Fletcher faltered his smile slightly.

They were used to manipulations with little room for pity.

Yet those clear eyes somehow stirred a rare twinge of compassion in him.

Falling for Stuart was bound to leave deep scars.

He couldn’t help but add, “Mrs. Hetfield, if you ever need help, feel free to reach out to me.”

Thinking of potential care instructions from the doctor for Stuart’s wound, Morwenna nodded, “Could I have your phone number then?”

Fletcher glanced at Stuart before replying, “Sure, it’s…”

Morwenna pulled out her vintage phone to save the number.

Stuart suddenly turned stern.