Desperate Lovers novel Chapter 166

"I don’t agree with Mr. Greyson’s opinion, but he cares about you, Miss Angela." Roland said.

"For a rich second generation like him, he is concerned with his face and reputation, but he could kneel down in public to Mr. James in order to plead for you. It is really out of my expectation."

No matter what the disease was, a good state of mind in the patient was conducive to recovery.

He hadn't had much contact with Miss Angela, but he could vaguely sense that she didn't expect much from life.

If Angela could feel more kindness from the world and be in a better mood, it would also help his treatment.

Luna was stunned. She couldn't even tell if Dr. Roland was scolding her husband or complimenting him.

"No ... there is no such thing. Don't listen to his nonsense!"

Greyson's face flushed furiously. And he said in an embarrassing tone,

"Angela, don't listen to his nonsense!"

Before Angela could reply, a messy footstep came from the doorway, followed by Dr. Chandler and a few nurses before a patient was pushed into her sight.

"Why are you still here?"

When he saw that Angela was still here, Dr. Chandler's face became ugly, and he impatiently urged,

"Get out of here if you're all right!"

He turned to Roland and spoke in a extremely fast manner, "Dr. Roland, help to get her out quickly! I have a patient here!"

What was this all about?

"OK." Roland answered. But he didn't move the transfer bed. Instead, Roland walked to Greyson and picked him up. He said to Luna behind him as he walked.

"I'll leave the rest to you, Mrs. Luna."

Luna was afraid of delaying the patient and didn't respond, but she rushed to push the transfer bed.

Angela jumped off the transfer bed in her bare feet and pushed it out of the emergency room with Luna as fast as she could.

"Go, go, go!"

Dr. Chandler ordered the other nurses quickly, and a group of people went into the emergency room and slammed the door.

Angela felt that it was indecent for Roland to hold her brother like that, "Dr. Roland, you could put my brother on the transfer bed. And we will push him back to the ward."

Before Roland could answer, Greyson yelled,

"Quickly, put me down!"

"Oh."

Roland said lightly. And then he threw him onto the transfer bed without hurting Greyson's wounds.

Greyson's back hurt a little from the fall, and tears were coming out of his eyes. And when he thought of that Roland had hugged him twice without permission, his pent-up anger exploded, "F*ck, are you fucking sick?"

"Mr. Greyson, you got the wrong person. It's you who's sick."

Roland crinkled his eyes and pointed to the cast on his arm and leg, with deep dimples on his cheeks.

Greyson was too angry to say anything.

Damn, he hated this kind of men who cursed people without dirty words, just as annoying as that bastard James!

"Mr. Greyson, you are a patient, so I shouldn't be too fussy with you. But don't make noise in the hospital, and you have not paid attention to this."

"And I would like to correct one thing to you.

It's not right of doing something wrong and just apologizing for it. It's an insult."

The smile on Roland's face disappeared, and he was serious when he said those words.

Greyson was disgusted by him, as he always wanted to teach him something, which was annoying, "You ..."

"Greyson, Dr. Roland is right." Angela interrupted him.