Donna fought back the urge to kick Karl to death, turned around, got the noodles out of the pot, carried it to the man, put it down, and spoke coldly, "Done, enjoy it, I should go to bed."

Then she turned to leave.

"Stop!" Karl called out.

She halted her steps, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned back, "Anything else?"

"Did I let you go?" His cold voice froze the quiet air.

Donna froze there silently for quite a while before pulling over a chair to sit down and gazing at him.

Holding the fork, Karl started dining. She didn't like to watch it but lowered her head and secretly rubbed her wrist hurt from the fall.

Her hand was wrapped in gauze. Ruby tripped her today, and the broken bowl cut her hand. Without having medical treatment, she bandaged it.

He took one bite and frowned, "From which loser did you learn cooking? Is this dog food?"

"Argh..." She was too angry to speak.

Hamilton praised her profusely for her cooking skills while this was dog food in Karl's view. Whom was he cursing?

She gritted her teeth and replied coldly with an unyielding face, "Oh yeah, dog food, take a bite."

"Are you challenging me?" His voice was not angry but chilling.

She didn't answer. It was not that she didn't dare talk back but wouldn't bother to talk nonsense with him.

With a screech, he pushed the bowl to her and snapped, "Since this is dog food, you eat it up."

Donna gritted her teeth, picked up the bowl, and gorged on the hot noodles as if she was venting her anger.

Karl took a cold glance at her and stood up, ready to leave.

Something suddenly crossed her mind, and she turned back immediately, "Have you solved the problem with Hamilton? You made a promise and should keep it!"

If it weren't for Hamilton's sake, she wouldn't have put up with this man who hated her for no good reason.

"Finish your food, go back to your room, take a shower, undress, and wait for me on the bed!" He didn't answer her question but instructed coldly.

Aggrieved and indignant, she turned around.

After he left, she held the bowl in tears and swallowed the noodles.

Then she started to clean up and wash the dishes.

She was slow in every movement.

Even so, she had to go upstairs after half an hour.

She couldn't avoid the man.

She sighed and went upstairs back to her room.

She thought Karl would be there, but the room was empty under the light.

For Hamilton's sake, she went all out.

She rushed into the bathroom, and the pitter-patter of water came out in a minute.

...

Donna finished the bath, lay on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.

She was like a concubine waiting for the emperor.

She waited for Karl for a full hour, but he didn't come.

Lying on the bed, she got sleepy and drifted off to sleep!

In her sleep, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her palm.

Ow...

She gasped and abruptly opened her eyes.

She turned her head and saw Karl sitting at the head of the bed. Grabbing her hand, he held a tweezer with the other hand and poked at her palm.

"What... what are you doing?" She struggled to sit up, feeling intense pain, but her palm that was 'abused' would not move.

"Don't move!" He snapped and continued to prick at the wound in her palm.

"Ouch! Let go of me, you psycho!" She gritted her teeth. The pain was so sharp that the veins popped on her forehead, and a cold sweat broke out.

Cut by broken pieces, her palm was not treated in time, and this man was fiddling with her wound. What a lunatic!

"Since you don't want your hand, how about we cut it off?" His voice was icy and fierce.

"What are you talking about?" Her blood froze, and her body trembled.

"Cut the crap!" He pressed hard on her hand, took out a cotton swab from a small box nearby, dipped it in potions, and daubed it on her wound.

Only then did she find that it was a medical kit filled with various medicines for external use and medical gauze.

What was this man doing?

At a closer look, she saw him smearing her wound with the potion.

She took a glance at the tweezer that he casually placed on the nightstand. Under the light, she saw tiny fragments of the porcelain bowl that were hardly visible.

It turned out he was picking out the broken pieces and treating her wound.

Is this... a hallucination?

She looked at the man incredulously.

While her mind was wandering, the man took a glance at her. His eyes turned cold, and he pressed hard on her would with the cotton swab!

"Ah!" Her every pore was shivering in pain!

"Silly woman, your hand is almost infected. You didn't treat it in time and even had it soaked in water. Are you stupid or something?" His voice was indifferent, contemptuous, and sarcastic.

Her lungs nearly burst with rage, and she retorted immediately, "It's easy for you to say it! How can I treat it? In this house, I'm inferior even to the servants. Do I have the right to treat the wound in time?"

"Don't excuse your incompetence."

His nonchalant remark rendered her speechless.

A tyrant would not change his spot. How would he become gentle!

As for why he treated her wound, she believed that he might have OCD!

"Ah!" He pressed hard on her palm again with the swab, deliberately hurting her.

"Can't you be gentler?" She was annoyed.

"Who do you think you are? Should I serve you like a professional doctor?" He suddenly flung her hand aside, "Bandage it yourself and finish the job before I take off my pajamas."

Following his words, he threw the gauze to her, closed the medical kit, put it aside, and started to undress.

Aware of his intention, she panicked and hurriedly started to warp the gauze around her palm.

She hastily bandaged her palm and tied a knot with her teeth. Before she could put down the gauze roll, the man suddenly pounced on her, tore open her pajamas, threw them on the floor, and kissed her.