From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 59

The gaze he leveled at her grew distinctly arctic.

He clearly didn't believe a single word out of her mouth.

Just as she braced herself for his merciless sarcasm, he suddenly spoke, his voice dropping a decibel. "You're hurt?"

"Huh?"

She hadn't expected him to actually notice or care about her injuries. Mildly surprised, she nodded.

"Your hand is injured too?"

She hummed a soft note of confirmation, thinking his attitude had shifted and he finally realized she wasn't some stalker trying to throw herself at him.

But his next words shattered that illusion entirely. "Your hand is wrapped in a massive bandage, and you came in here to wash your face?"

"No, I—"

"So you didn't come in here to wash your face?"

"I did!"

"Wash it then."

The man's voice was dangerously low and unrelenting. It was obvious that if she didn't physically wash her face right in front of him, he would never let this go.

Lydia furrowed her brows. She pulled a tissue from her purse and dampened it under the faucet. The moment the wet paper brushed against her gash, the stinging pain spiked, bringing a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.

He was being completely unreasonable and downright tyrannical.

Yet, he had saved her life today, he was her boss, and he was an untouchable titan of industry. She didn't dare argue with him, nor could she do anything to retaliate.

Suddenly, a large, warm palm covered her freezing, trembling hands.

He plucked the damp tissue from her grasp. She looked up, diving straight into his unfathomable gaze. A dangerous, dark light rippled in his eyes, as if a storm were brewing just beneath the surface.

The cool dampness pressed against her cheek.

He began carefully dabbing at the dried blood on her face, his movements shockingly gentle.

"Don't move!"

The aggressive bite in his tone instantly shattered the strange, fluttering sensation that had started to rise in her chest.

"Lydia, are you in there?" Harrison's voice suddenly echoed into the men's room. "I got you an appointment with a plastic surgeon, and it's time for us to head up."

"Yes, I'll be right out!" In a panic, she stepped backward to put distance between herself and Xavier. But her heel hit a slick patch of wet tile, and her feet flew out from under her.

Pure instinct took over, and she grabbed a handful of Xavier's shirt collar. Even a man built like a mountain couldn't defy gravity when yanked so abruptly. Thrown off balance, his massive frame pitched forward, collapsing right on top of her.

"Ah!"

She screamed in terror.

Before she could smash her skull against the tiles, his muscular arm snaked around her lower back, catching her mid-fall.

He slammed his other hand into the wall behind her, successfully caging her against the cold tile. He frowned deeply, staring down at her two hands clamped around his collar like a terrified koala.

*Rip.*

The tension on the fabric was too much. Two buttons popped clean off his expensive dress shirt, fully exposing the hard, sculpted planes of his chest.

She stared in horror as the man's devastatingly handsome face leaned in even closer.

His hot, ragged breaths fanned across her cheeks. His dark eyes, now laced with sheer predatory rage, pinned her down.

Her heart missed a wild beat.

"Excuse me, miss, you can't just barge in there!"

The nurse called out from behind her, but Lydia had already pushed open the heavy door to the sterile suite.

Sierra was lying on the operating table, whimpering in pain. The man standing beside her gently held her hand, his eyes incredibly tender and his voice overflowing with indulgence. "The anesthesia is already kicking in."

"Frederick, it still hurts," she whined.

Frederick turned his head. As his gaze locked onto Lydia, the air in the room went dead silent for a long moment. "Get out."

"The ones who need to get out are you two. This is my appointment time," she shot back icily.

"Miss, she's already under local anesthesia. Let me just squeeze you in for the next slot, alright?" Dr. Price offered, trying to keep the peace.

"I don't need you to squeeze me in. This was my appointment to begin with." Lydia marched right up to the table. Ignoring the blinding pain in her bandaged hand, she grabbed Sierra by the arm and forcefully yanked her upright.

"Frederick!" Sierra shrieked, looking utterly victimized.

In a flash, a large, ice-cold hand clamped around Lydia's wrist like a vise.

"Are you quite finished throwing your tantrum?" the man demanded, his face an angry storm. "Once Sierra's treatment is finished, you can be seen."

By now, several nurses and passing patients had gathered at the door. Along with Dr. Price, they all shot Lydia looks of absolute disdain, treating her as if she were a hysterical, unreasonable woman causing a petty scene.

She no longer gave a damn about their sickening taboo romance, but she refused to let them twist the narrative and strip away the last shreds of her dignity in public.

"She attacked me in the therapy clinic. She slashed my face and butchered my hand, yet you protected her, destroyed the evidence, and blocked me from calling the cops. Now, this is the specialist appointment I booked, and you barge in here to steal it from me by force?"

"Am I the one throwing a tantrum? My dear husband? My darling sister?!"

The corridor instantly erupted into chaos. "Oh my god, so it's a cheating husband and the homewrecking sister! That is absolutely shameless!"