The Cold Surgeon's Contract Bride novel Chapter 251

I stared at Ferris's movements, the realization of his words hitting me after a brief moment of shock.

He wanted me to sit on his lap.

I froze in place, wondering if I had misheard him, until his cold scoff broke the silence. "What, not willing?"

I stared at him in disbelief. His chiseled features were the same, yet for a split second, he felt like a total stranger.

"It seems Dr. Hayes is in a difficult position," Ferris noted. Seeing me rooted to the spot, he lightly tapped his long fingers against the table and added casually, "If that's the case, never bring this up in front of me again."

With that, he set down his glass and prepared to stand up.

Thinking of the shadow on Silas's brain scans, I immediately rounded the edge of the table and blocked his path.

I stood over him while he remained seated. The crystal chandelier shattered into twelve prisms of light above his head, casting a bronze, surgical-table gleam over his crossed legs.

Despite sitting down, his oppressive aura only intensified.

I instinctively averted my gaze, only to catch our absurd reflection in the glass window: he lounged in the dining chair like a king wielding a scalpel, while my rigid silhouette was fractured into trembling pieces by the wall's pattern.

His gaze swept over my chest, rising and falling with my breaths. That suffocating feeling returned, as if my ribs were being pried apart.

I took an unconscious step back.

Ferris caught the subtle movement. His lips curled into a mocking smirk. "What are you doing, Dr. Hayes? A deal requires a proper attitude, doesn't it?"

I steadied my nerves and met his eyes. "Dr. Sterling, I think—"

Before I could finish, a tight grip locked around my wrist. I stumbled forward, crashing into his scent—a sharp mix of pine and glutaraldehyde.

I scrambled to pull away, but he shifted his knee, pinning my ankle. The metal rivets of the leather chair dug into my waist, making me feel like a live specimen pinned to an anatomy table.

Tears instantly welled up in my eyes. An unspeakable wave of humiliation consumed me, overflowing into hot tears that streamed down my cheeks.

Ferris's brow furrowed. His gaze turned somber. He abruptly stood up, and I lost my balance, crashing to the floor.

The door slammed.

He stormed out in a fit of anger.

Thinking of this failed deal and Silas's condition, my tears fell freely once more.

The next morning, I arrived at Silas's room with a heavy heart. To my surprise, Leon Lennox and Lucille Lowell were already there. Leon was keeping Silas company during breakfast, while Lucille was arranging a bouquet of flowers.

Seeing me enter, she immediately dropped her pruning shears and pulled me aside. "How did it go? What did Ferris say?"