Chapter 80: Cripple bastard.
Lurgard .
I had been restless in my office for a while. Sitting still was becoming unbearable, and every passing minute only made it harder to concentrate on the documents in front of me.
My eyes kept drifting off the screen, my thoughts refusing to stay in one place. In the end, I decided that maybe the problem wasn’t work itself, but distance.
Maybe if I could sit closer to Theresa, if I could have her right there in front of me while I worked, I would finally be able to focus properly.
Without wasting another second, I pushed back my chair and stood up. I grabbed my laptop immediately, holding it firmly under my arm, and walked straight out of my office space into the outer office where she was seated. I didn’t even slow down. I simply made my way toward her desk like it was the most natural thing to do.
I pulled out the chair beside her and sat down much closer than usual, placing my laptop on my thighs as I adjusted my position slightly so I could face her better.
Almost immediately, I noticed her reaction.
She had been looking at her phone, completely absorbed in whatever was on the screen, but the moment I settled beside her, her brows lifted slightly in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected me to invade her space so suddenly.
I leaned in a little, a teasing smile forming on my lips.
"Who is bothering my baby?" I asked lightly, my tone playful as I tilted my head toward her.
Theresa lowered her phone slowly, and the moment her eyes met mine, she shot me a look so sharp it could have cut through steel. There was irritation in it... and something else I couldn’t quite place at first.
"Didn’t we..." she began, her voice low and clearly displeased, but she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Her expression shifted, and instead of finishing her words, she quickly brought her hands closer to herself.
Almost instantly, she started scratching at her hands, trying to rub at her skin as though something was irritating her badly.
My playful expression faded. I watched her carefully now, my curiosity rising as I tried to understand what was happening. Something about the way she was reacting did not sit right with me.
"Theresa, are you okay?" I asked, my tone dropping slightly as concern crept in.
"Yes, I’m fine!" she answered quickly, too quickly, and she immediately tried to hide her hands from my view, curling her fingers inward as if she could make the problem disappear by covering it.
That was when anger flickered across my face. I stood up abruptly, my chair shifting back slightly from the force of my movement. In one swift motion, I grabbed her wrists before she could pull them away again.
My grip was not gentle this time.
And the moment I saw her hands properly, my expression darkened even more.
Her skin was already turning red. Not just slightly irritated—red, inflamed, and spreading in patches that looked uncomfortable and painful. My chest tightened immediately as I processed what I was seeing.
Only one thought came to my mind.
"Did Alex send those creepy roses again?" I asked sharply, my voice edged with clear annoyance and a rising wave of anger that I couldn’t quite rein in.
The thought alone was enough to tighten my jaw, my irritation flaring instantly as I stared at her hands.
Damn that cripple.
He never knew when to stop. Never understood boundaries. Never understood when enough was simply enough.
"And why did you touch it, Theresa!" I snapped again, my tone harsher this time, even though my attention was already divided.
I was examining her hands more closely now, my grip firm but careful as my fingers moved over her skin, checking the irritated patches like I was trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong. My eyes scanned every detail with increasing urgency, trying to piece it together.
And that was when panic finally set in, sharp and unignorable.
Her hands were not just red anymore.
They were swelling now.
"Get up, we are going to the hospital," I said immediately, my voice firm as I shut down everything on the desk in one swift motion.
Papers were pushed aside, my laptop was closed without care, and I went inside and grabbed my car keys without even pausing to think twice.
Theresa didn’t argue. She did not even ask questions. She simply stood up slowly, almost like a child who had just been caught doing something wrong and didn’t know how to defend herself anymore. The sight made something shift in my chest, but I forced myself to stay focused.
For a brief second, I almost laughed at how small and helpless she looked in that moment, but the anger still boiling inside me swallowed it before it could fully come out. The situation wasn’t funny. Not at all. Especially not when she should have known better.
She knew she was allergic. She knew exactly what those roses could do to her. So why even go near them in the first place? Why touch something she already knew was dangerous for her?
My jaw tightened as I thought about it.
Before I could say anything else, the door to my office suddenly opened, cutting through the tense moment.
Lawrence and Leonard stepped in almost at the same time.
"We have something urgent to attend to," Leonard said quickly, his tone as serious and firm as it always was whenever matters of importance came up.
There was no hesitation in his voice, no room for delay, just that familiar commanding edge that made it clear something needed immediate attention.
But the words he had just spoken didn’t even get the chance to settle in the room. The moment his eyes shifted and landed on Theresa, everything stopped.
For a brief second, there was silence.
A heavy, loaded silence.
Then, almost instantly, Leonard’s entire expression changed. His calm seriousness twisted into sharp irritation, and then into something far more aggressive. His eyes narrowed as he took in the sight in front of him, as if trying to confirm what he was seeing.
"Which bastard brought roses into this office?" he snapped immediately, his voice rising with raw anger that filled the space. It was not just frustration—it was controlled fury, the kind that made the air feel tighter.
He did not even wait for an answer.
Without wasting another second, he pulled out his phone aggressively, his movements sharp and fast. His thumb was already scrolling as if he intended to track down whoever was responsible with his own hands if necessary.
"Call the head of security here. Now!" he commanded, each word clipped and firm, leaving no space for argument or delay. His jaw tightened as his fingers moved quickly across the screen, clearly already preparing to escalate the situation beyond just a warning.
The atmosphere in the office shifted instantly.
Lawrence, who had been standing nearby, didn’t bother with words at first. He moved immediately, his attention fully locked on Theresa. There was no hesitation in his actions as he stepped closer and gently yet firmly supported her. His hands steadied her carefully, making sure she did not lose her balance as she stood.
Theresa tried to stay composed, but it was obvious now that the situation had worsened. The swelling on her hands had become more pronounced, spreading in visible patches that made it even harder to ignore. Her fingers looked irritated, the skin inflamed in a way that clearly signaled a reaction that was getting worse by the minute.
I could feel my irritation building again, but now it was mixed with something heavier—frustration, urgency, and concern all tangled together in my chest.
Alex had clearly crossed a line, and I wasn’t in the mood to tolerate it any longer.
"Theresa, move quickly," I said again, my voice lowered this time but carrying urgency that matched the tension in the room.
Leonard was still standing there, clearly waiting for results of the instructions he had given, but I didn’t have the time to wait for such scenes, because every second mattered.
Lawrence adjusted his grip on Theresa and began leading her out of the office without hesitation. She followed quietly, her steps unsteady, still trying to keep her hands close to her body as though that alone could ease the pain or hide what was already visible.
I followed right behind them immediately, my mind racing as I watched her struggle to keep up. My grip tightened around my car keys, and I could feel my patience thinning with every step we took.
Behind us, I could still hear Leonard giving orders, still demanding answers, still ready to tear the entire office apart if needed. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
All that mattered now was getting Theresa to the hospital as fast as possible before things got worse.
