Chapter 25 Who Is She Messing With
Seriously?
Victor had his eyes wide open.
The genius doctor couldn’t have chosen Dalton to be the human subject, could she? How dared she! Was she seeking trouble?
Victor turned sideways slightly to show himself, “How about you choose…”
Before he could say “me“, Wynter had strode up to Dalton.
Only then did the bald Victor realize Wynter was taller than him!
With a height of five feet seven inches, Wynter had a slender waist and long legs. On her elegant face were a pair of enchanting eyes and exquisite features,
When she stood next to the six–foot–tall Dalton, the atmosphere became ambiguous.
Because their temperaments were in contrast with each other, it was akin to an encounter between an ascetic and a nymph.
Dalton was well–dressed, his eyes tinged with the coolness of dusk.
Wynter stopped at a respectful social distance from Dalton.
Then, she took off her medical mask, revealing a relaxed, beautiful face with naturally red lips and a mole at the corner of her eyes.
She chuckled lightly and asked, “Are you the patient’s family?”
When Ryan was about to clarify, Dalton coughed softly with a faint medicine scent and replied in a low, cold voice, “Sort of.”
It was either yes or no. What did Dalton mean by that answer? Wynter raised her eyebrows.
She then said decisively, “Whatever. You can learn about the treatment process on behalf of the patient’s family. Anyway, nobody signed.”
“Dr. Genius, actually…” Ryan opened his mouth.
At Dalton’s clear reply of “okay“, he swallowed the rest of his words.
Even the Yarwood family’s bodyguard, Ethan Yarwood, was stupefied on the spot upon his
arrival.
What did he just hear? Dalton actually consented to a woman touching him?
Chapter 25 Who Is She Messing With
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Dalton’s mysophobia had been around since childhood. Because of his physical condition, even his grandfather, Theo Yarwood, had to wash his hands before touching him.
What was wrong with him today? Had he been bewitched?
Everyone’s expression was dramatic, except for Dalton himself.
In a black shirt and black pants, he leaned closer to Wynter with narrowed eyes. “What do you need me to do?”
“Stand still.” Wynter raised her eyes, smiling faintly. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt.”
“That’s a relief.” Dalton was still coughing. Because he had been ill for a long time, his breathing was weak despite his cold voice.
Wynter could smell medicine, accompanied by the sandalwood of his beaded bracelet.
Seeing Dalton’s face flush from coughing, Wynter somehow felt sorry for him.
She put her left hand on his wrist while her right hand unwrapped a candy. “Open your mouth.”
Dalton raised his eyebrows in confusion but followed Wynter’s instructions with aloofness.
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