Entangled in the Night: Unable to Escape Him-Chapter 77: "Dr. Nash, My Wound Hurts.

The next morning.

When Chloe Nash opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Silas Prescott’s ridiculously handsome face.

She was so startled her heart skipped a beat.

Didn’t she sit in the chair last night telling Silas a story?

How did she end up on the bed?

And lying right in Silas Prescott’s arms.

Chloe felt danger looming; if Silas insisted on clinging to this as leverage, what would she do?

Thinking about that possibility, Chloe slowly moved Silas’s arm away.

Trying to sneak off the bed.

Just as she was about to get up, a low, husky voice sounded by her ear.

"Dr. Nash, you just sleep and want to run?"

Chloe was so frightened by this sentence that her body went soft, and she dropped back into Silas’s arms.

She glared at Silas: "Did you carry me up here?"

Silas chuckled lowly: "Dr. Nash, did you forget I’m an injured man? I couldn’t even lift Julian, let alone you."

He leaned close to Chloe’s ear and whispered, "Dr. Nash, does this count as a secret affair?"

Terrified, Chloe backed away quickly, her eyes a little helpless.

"Silas, like you said, you hurt your back, you can’t do anything! We just slept on the same bed, that’s all. Don’t be so sleazy."

Silas’s smile was hard to read: "If you want me to take responsibility, I’m always ready."

Chloe shot him a grumpy glare.

She got out of bed in a hurry.

——

Mrs. Nash had made chicken soup and Chloe’s favorite soup dumplings.

When Mr. North came back, she greeted him right away.

"Well? Did the culprit confess?"

Mr. North looked a bit grave: "He did. All because of my case—got Silas in trouble with the authorities. In retaliation, they tried to kill him."

Hearing this, Mrs. Nash froze on the spot.

Silas hadn’t just gotten her husband out of jail; he’d taken a serious injury for them.

How were they ever going to pay him back?

Would he cling to Chloe because of this?

Mrs. Nash said anxiously, "What do we do? Will Chloe ever be able to repay this favor?"

Mr. North took a sip of water and said, "Let’s take it a step at a time, it’s hard to say anything now. Is the soup I asked you to make ready?"

"Yes, I’ve packed it into the thermos."

"I’ll take a shower and change clothes, then we’ll go with Julian to visit. We owe him so much, we have to thank him properly."

Julian Prescott had heard his dad was hurt, and barely ate breakfast.

He didn’t say a word after getting in the car.

Fries gripped his little hand, trying to comfort him: "Julian, don’t worry! If your dad dies, I’ll have my dad raise you. That way, we’ll have the same dad and mom!"

Julian blinked a few times, big teardrops swirling in his eyes. His voice was soft: "I don’t want Dad to die."

Albie Kane tapped Fries on the head: "What kind of comfort is that? You almost reassured him straight into an orphanage. Your Uncle Prescott’s injury isn’t fatal; he’ll be fine after a few days in the hospital."

Fries giggled, patted Julian’s head, and said, "My bad, I shouldn’t have said your dad was about to die. Your dad’s going to live a long, long life."

When they got out of the car, they happened to see Lucy Rhodes arriving with her assistant.

Finally seeing a family member, Julian dashed over on his short little legs, throwing himself into Lucy’s arms.

With tears in his eyes, he looked up at her: "Auntie, don’t let Dad die."

Seeing his little face, Lucy Rhodes kissed him and smiled, "Who said your dad’s dying? He’s just fine. He’ll be out of the hospital in a few days. Julian, no need to worry."

Julian’s eyes instantly went wide, "Don’t lie."

"If I lie, I’m a puppy."

The group went together to Silas’s hospital room.

Julian saw Silas alive and well, ran straight over, scrambled onto the bed, and hugged him: "Dad’s not dead."

Silas stroked his head, "Dad’s fine, not dying."

Mr. North nodded apologetically to Silas: "Mr. Prescott, the culprit confessed—he was sent by those officials being investigated. They wanted you dead. It’s our Nash Family’s trouble that dragged you in; we feel deeply guilty."

Silas didn’t blame them—instead, he waved Mr. North off.

"Uncle, don’t feel bad. I volunteered to swap places with Dr. Nash. Even if I died, I’d never ask you to atone."

Seeing how reasonable he was, Mrs. Nash felt even more ashamed.

She hurriedly handed him the chicken soup: "This is black chicken soup I made early this morning, with stuff to enrich your blood. Drink more later. You got hurt for our Nash Family; whatever you want to eat from now on, just say the word."

Silas nodded politely: "Thank you, Auntie. As long as you don’t mind me dropping by in the future, I appreciate it."

He turned his gaze to Chloe: "Dr. Nash was up all night. You should have some too."

Men have their ways; even Albie Kane could see Silas’s little scheme.

On the surface, he was a gentleman, but really, he wanted something more.

Albie gave Silas a polite nod: "Mr. Prescott, sorry you got hurt because of our family. While you’re in the hospital, let me take care of you. I promise I’ll look after you well."

After speaking, he gently patted Chloe’s head, his tone full of guilt and concern: "If I hadn’t gotten drunk last night, you wouldn’t have had to witness such violence. You must have been scared."

There was genuine tenderness and remorse in his eyes.

Seeing this, Silas felt his wound hurt even more.

He couldn’t help hissing through his teeth: "Dr. Nash, my wound hurts."