He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 158

Meeting Grant's icy glare, Sienna didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow.

The booth was suffocatingly silent, save for Lyla's erratic, tear-soaked gasps.

"Mr. Gauthier," Sienna finally spoke, her voice entirely flat and devoid of ripples.

"If I said she faked it and I didn't touch her, would you believe me?"

Grant's grip on Lyla tightened violently. He stared at Sienna as if trying to bore holes straight through her skull.

"Faked it?" He chewed on the words, every syllable dripping with gunpowder. "She's in this condition, and you're telling me she faked it?"

Sienna let out a dry scoff, entirely unsurprised by his reaction.

"See? I told you that you wouldn't believe me, so why ask for an explanation?"

Sienna's utter apathy only fueled the irrational inferno blazing in Grant's chest.

"Sienna... I clearly just... how could you say that?"

Trembling like a fragile leaf in his arms, Lyla looked up with a tear-streaked face, her voice weak and devastated.

As she spoke, she clamped her hands over her stomach again in sheer agony, a sheen of sweat breaking out across her forehead.

"Grant... it hurts so bad..."

Grant immediately looked down, the fury in his eyes instantly overtaken by sheer panic. He held her tightly, treating her like the most fragile treasure on earth.

"Don't be afraid. I'm taking you to the hospital."

Without giving Sienna another glance, he carried Lyla out of the restaurant.

As they brushed past, the sharp scent of his cologne invaded Sienna's senses.

She stood there, watching the man whose posture was usually defined by arrogant detachment, now radiating nothing but frantic anxiety.

How ironic.

...

At the hospital.

When Grant carried Lyla into the ER, he exuded a suffocating, unapproachable aura.

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