Bringing the Nation's Husband Home II

XVII | First Man

The door to Alexander's study room wasn't locked. Isabelle lightly pushed, and it opened.

The study room was silent. She stuck her head in instinctively, and froze at the sight.

The study room was no longer how it looked before, the exquisite and grand decor long gone. It was a hideous mess now.

Isabelle stood in a daze for about a minute before getting her senses back. She forced the shock down and walked in to take a closer look. In the middle of the room floor, Alexander lay with his eyes wide open, as he stared at the ceiling. He seemed to be in deep thought, his face a mask of misery.

Isabelle felt her heart clench. The next moment, she saw him spit out a mouthful of blood, his face turning white.

"Alexander!" she screamed, running into the study room.

As she approached, she realized that there were multiple cuts on his body, caused by the glass shards on the floor. Her heart sank. Instinctively, she froze momentarily, then reached out to help him up.

But the moment she touched his arm, he seemed to have been electrocuted, tossing her hand away instantly, then pushing her onto the floor.

The spot that she landed didn't have any glass, but her arm had hit onto the lamp, causing a cut to form.

Isabelle frowned, but she didn't look at her injury. Her gaze was focused on Alexander.

His perfect features appeared cold and distant, his eyes holding a menacing glint.

It wasn't the first time Isabelle had seen him having a fit, but it was never with such an intensity. He was filled with so much hatred that it scared her.

Isabelle was slightly frightened. She wanted to approach him but paused, looking at him for a long while. When she confirmed that he wasn't going to do anything sudden or extreme, she reached out a hand towards his arm. After touching him, she reached back swiftly, to ensure that he wasn't going to push her away again. Since he didn't react, with slightly more courage this time, she moved over gingerly, calling out his name softly.

Isabelle didn't have much courage, hence she only dared to call him softly in a faint voice that seemed to have came with the wind. The voice had a magical effect on Alexander, calming his angry heart, bringing his sense back, bit by bit. With bloodshot eyes, he finally managed to focus and turned to look at Isabelle's careful yet protective face. That was when he fully awoke.

Madam Mary, who was watching television, had heard Isabelle's scream and had shouted "Mrs. Smith" several times worriedly from below. But when there was no response, she had hurriedly ran up towards the open study room. The sight startled her. When she saw Alexander's state, she shouted in shock, "Mr. Smith, what's wrong?"

She walked over, exclaiming, "Mr. Smith, why do you have so many cuts? I'll call for the doctor!"

"No need for that..." After Alexander's mother had died in the hospital, he had never liked to see doctors and had never once called for the family one. Even with so many cuts, he felt that it wasn't serious enough, dismissing Madam Mary.

"But.." He had so many cuts... And it was currently summer, exposing his injuries to infection. What if there were glass shards left in his body? Madam Mary had wanted to argue more, but she turned and saw Isabelle's injured arm, and immediately exclaimed again, "Mrs. Smith, why are you injured as well? It might leave a scar if not properly treated."

Alexander immediately looked over at her arm, the sight of of her injured arm bringing the roughness of his actions to mind. He frowned and without hesitation commanded, "Why are you still in a daze? Hurry and call for the doctor."