The President’s Five Children

Bonnie stumbled into the middle of the bedroom.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

She froze in astonishment with teardrops in the corner of her eyes, as she looked at the man on the bed.

“Aren’t you … you dead?” Bonnie asked in confusion.

Sebastian threw a handful of pills into his mouth, an undercurrent surging beneath his dark eyes. “Who told you I was dead?”

“Eric,” Bonnie answered.

When Eric followed in, he heard the answer and quickly denied, “No, I didn’t. I’m just too upset.”

“But you just said, ‘Mr. Grant has already…'” Bonnie repeated.

Eric nodded. “That’s true. Actually, I want to say, ‘Mr. Grant has already been fine.'”

Bonnie was shocked and did not know what to say in this case.

It turned out that all the bad emotions were because she had thought too much.

The atmosphere in the bedroom suddenly turned awkward.

Rupert, at that moment, came in and dragged Eric out of the room. “Don’t stay inside, come out with me.”

As he was saying, he also gave Bonnie a box of ointment. “He had got paint on his hands, so toxic substances went along the skin into his body. Please help to apply the ointment to his hands.”

“What?”

Blinking in confusion, Bonnie was stunned.

“Actually, either the doctor or assistant applies the ointment to his hands, right? How could she be asked to do so?” She thought.

When she chased out and tried to say something, however, Rupert called out on purpose, “You are my cousin’s wife. Of course, you’re the best one to do it.”

In unison, the servants downstairs cast eyes on her.

Now she was in a dilemma-if she did not help Sebastian apply ointment to his hands, the servants would find out there was something wrong.

When the words reached Aliyah, no one would know what was going to happen.

Gritting her teeth, she could do nothing but said, “Yes, I’m the best one. I’ll go and apply then.”

“OK, it’s getting late. Eric and I are going home too,” Rupert said with a grin.

Rupert took Eric by hand and the two disappeared quickly at the gate of the villa.

Bonnie turned and went back to the bedroom, ready to apply the ointment to Sebastian’s hands.

What she originally thought was Sebastian should be right because he was just poisoned by the paint.

But when she saw his hands up close, her heart twisted tightly.

She remembered that his hands were as beautiful as artwork with knotty knuckles and long, slender fingers.

But the hands in front of her were full of bleeding blisters, many of which were broken, revealing pink flesh inside and the edge turning out-it was really shocking.

Everyone could tell how terrible the poison of the paint was!

Bonnie felt heartbroken, afraid of touching his hands. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Sebastian said in a flat voice. “You can do it now.”

Bonnie then began to apply the ointment to his hands, being extremely careful. She was afraid of hurting him.

But it took her a lot of time to finish only one hand-more than forty minutes-because she was too cautious.

When it came to the other hand, Sebastian was already impatient.

He frowned at her slow progress in applying.

Then he took the ointment and applied it to his hands by himself. He did the application so violently that many scabbed blisters blooded again.

“What are you doing?!” Bonnie held Sebastian instantly, “Sebastian, don’t do that. It will leave scars on your hands.”

She was so nervous that a tear in her eyes trickled down to Sebastian’s wound.