As he watched Freya fall heavily to the ground, Kieran only felt his heart seize violently.
Subconsciously, he wanted to rush forward and hold her tightly in his arms, but in the end, he resisted the urge.
This woman, shameless and cunning, who knows if she's faking her fainting!
With this thought, Kieran paced slowly in front of Freya, "Stop pretending!"
Freya was still lying motionless on the ground, her lips pale, but her face blushed, as if, there was a blazing fire burning on her face.
The more he looked at Freya's face, the more annoyed Kieran became. He stretched out his hand and wanted to pull Freya up from the ground so that she could not continue to play dead.
He grasped his hand and he realised that she was horribly hot.
Just now, he had also touched her body, but did not notice anything unusual about her body, and did not expect her to burn so badly.
Kieran withdrew his hand from her wrist, his thin lips pursed involuntarily, as if after an extremely intense mental struggle, he reached out again and touched her forehead.
Her forehead, which was hotter than her wrist, looked quite painful as her body kept trembling, probably because of the intense fever.
"Damn!"
Kieran let out a low curse, but still picked up Freya and threw her into his sports car.
He told himself that he would take this woman home, not because he cared for her, but simply because, he didn't want to see her die.
He had never been a kind man or woman, and he would not even blink if someone who was seriously ill died in front of him, so how could he suddenly become so compassionate!
Freya is now really uncomfortable.
She felt that her body, for a while baking in the fire and for a while falling into the ice.
Even colder, still, was her heart.
She was alone, strolling through the snow and ice, she looked around in a daze, she thought she could see the man she had been longing for, but she could see nothing.
She had a particularly, particularly scary dream that she couldn't find her beloved Mr. Fitzgerald anymore.
She had travelled thousands of miles and could find no trace of him.
How could she not find him when, obviously, the man said he would be with her all day long!
Unwilling to be lost to him forever, she ran frantically through the snow and ice.
Then, probably because God took pity on her, she finally sought out Mr. Fitzgerald.
She shouted his name and she rushed like mad in his direction, but before she could get close to him, before she could see the smile on his face, a truck rammed into him hard.
Bright red blood, staining the white snow red, he was in front of her, shattered, unable to open his eyes any longer.
"Mr. Fitzgerald ......"
Freya reached out her hand, she tried hard to grab something, but she couldn't grab anything.
How could she not catch him? Obviously, Mr. Fitzgerald was close at hand, even if it was a cold corpse, she wanted to catch Mr. Fitzgerald, but all she could catch was snow mixed with blood.
"Mr. Fitzgerald, don't leave me ...... Mr. Fitzgerald, don't leave me ......"
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