The Tycoon's Deepest Repentance (Sophia and Ryan)

Chapter 220: Who Is Taking Care of Him?

Chapter 220: Who Is Taking Care of Him?

After escorting Charlotte back to the bedroom, Lance walked back to the villa's long corridor.

"Has Mr. Foster returned?" At that moment, Fatima rushed over and blocked Lance's path. She appeared anxious and spoke with a confrontational

tone. "Tell me, quick!"

Lance lowered his eyes slightly, his expression indifferent. "It's none of your concern."

Fatima squinted her eyes, gritting her teeth. "None of my concern? I've been by his side for so long... How can it not be my concern? Tell me, has something happened to Mr. Foster? I just saw the family doctor coming out of his room..."

pre had no patience to deal with Fatima. After all, she was just a maid.

"Some things are better left unasked," his tone turned colder, exuding an air of authority. With that, he moved past Fatima and continued forward.

Fatima stood there, her face contorted with frustration, and even stamped her foot in anger.

Lance prevented her from seeing Mr. Foster, but she insisted on seeing him.

Fatima didn't give up; instead, she went straight to Max's bedroom. Standing in front of the spacious door, a trace of hesitation flickered on her face.

Since arriving at Greenside Garden, she had never entered Max's bedroom. For the Foster family members, it was undoubtedly a mysterious and forbidden place. She didn't know if barging in like this would anger Mr. Foster. She clenched her fist, as if steeling herself, and with determination. she pushed open the bedroom door. To her surprise, the bedroom door was not locked.

She easily pushed the door open like that and entered the bedroom. At a glance, she saw Max lying on the bed, pale and weak.

"Mr. Foster..." She called out softly, a look of panic in her eyes. Without hesitation, she took a quick step to the bedside and crouched down.

The man in front of her had already had his wounds tended to and changed into clean clothes, but his pallid, blood-stained face indicated that he was still very weak. Fatima had long lost her composure. She stared at Max, her heart in turmoil and pain. How could this have happened?

How could Mr. Foster have sustained such a serious injury? Just at that moment, the slender fingers placed by Max's side trembled slightly. Fatima, with her keen perception, noticed this subtle movement.

"Mr. Foster?" She stared at the man in front of her, her eyes suddenly filled with joy. "Are you waking up?"

Max, lying on the bed, lightly furrowed his handsome brows. It was as if a glimmer of light gradually fell into a pair of dark eyes.

His long, black eyelashes quivered ever so slightly, and then he laboriously opened his eyes. Max had awakened. After a long period of unconsciousness, he finally reopened his eyes and regained consciousness. "Mr. Foster!" Fatima, who had been crouching by the bed, widened her eyes with surprise. "You're awake?"

She instinctively reached out her hand to touch Max, but the newly awakened man agilely evaded Fatima's hand. He kept his eyes lowered, his black hair falling onto his forehead, giving him a clean and stern appearance. "Don't touch me!"

He was extremely averse to Fatima's touch, almost reflexively avoiding it. Fatima's hand hung awkwardly in mid-air.

Max took a moment to slowly adjust to the indoor lighting. Seeing Fatima in front of his bed, he furrowed his cold brows and asked, "Why are you here, and who gave you permission to enter?"

Max's bedroom was never allowed for the servants to enter. Routine cleaning was personally handled by the housekeeper. Fatima's sudden appearance made Max feel repulsed.

"Mr Foster, I..." Fatima was somewhat at a loss for words. She opened her mouth and stammered as she tried to explain, "I was worried about you and wanted to take care of you..."

Take care of me? Max's gaze paused for a moment. During this period of unconsciousness, although he had lost most of his awareness, he could still sense that someone had been by his side all along. 13-52

The Tycoon's Deepest Repentance

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Chapter 220: Who Is Taking Care of Him?

"You... have been taking care of me all this time?" Max raised his eyes, looking at Fatima with indifference in his tone, tinged with questioning

Fatima was momentarily speechless. She had only recently arrived and hadn't really taken care of him.

After a brief silence, her eyes flickered, and she decided to take the credit. "Yes... Mr. Foster, I was genuinely worried about you, so I've been staying with you. I know I'm not supposed to come to your bedroom, but I couldn't sleep at night without being nearby." Max listened quietly, not saying anything further. In this light, he felt somewhat reluctant to chase Fatima away.

"Mr. Foster, are you hungry? Would you like me to go to the kitchen and prepare some simple food for you?" Fatima asked earnestly, her eyes filled with joy.

Max nodded somewhat perfunctorily. Fatima, upon seeing this, left the bedroom with an elated expression.

closed his eyes. It was as if he had emptied his mind, leaning back against the head of the bed. He was thinking about Charlotte. During the time has injured, had she come to see him? Had she been worried about him? Or was she still entangled with Benjamin? Thinking about this, a shadow passed over Max's pale cheeks.

When Charlotte woke up, the sunlight was already glaring. Bright rays of light streamed into the room through the window,

Charlotte furrowed her brows, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a faint expression. She realized she was in her own bedroom, not by Max's side.

She immediately got out of bed, and the first thing she did when she woke up was to go see Max. She opened her bedroom door and headed towards Max's bedroom.

However, Fatima was coming out of the room at that moment, wearing a self-satisfied smile on her face. They met head on, both of them coming to a halt without prior agreement.

"What are you doing here?" Fatima squinted her eyes and stared at Charlotte with an unfriendly expression.

Charlotte returned ho

Fatima

gave 2

gaze with a cold and indifferent look and said, "That's what I wanted to ask you."

disdainful snort and put on an air of superiority. "Of course, I'm here to take care of Mr. Foster. What business is it of yours? I advise you to stay away and not get in the way!"

She lifted her chin slightly, her tone sharp, "I'm heading to the kitchen right now to prepare food for Mr. Foster. He's hungry and not feeling well, soy don't disturb him!"

With that, Fatima walked past Charlotte, hurrying down the stairs. Charlotte, on the other hand, remained rooted in place.

Her gaze was dark and profound, as if there were shadows swirling in the depths of her eyes. After a moment's pause, she decided to move forward and pushed open the bedroom door.

Max had already awakened. He was half-leaning against the head of the bed, his eyes closed, his expression calm, and his face elegant. He looked like a finely crafted sculpture, beautiful and silent. However, the man quickly noticed the commotion at the door.