The hidden billionaire heiress (Lyra Melvin) novel Chapter 155

Lyra watched him as she put on her slippers.

Then she took off her windbreaker jacket and handed it to him.

Melvin froze for a second. His long curly eyelashes were slightly drooping.

He dutifully took the jacket Lyra handed to him and helped her hang it on the coat rack.

He never took the initiative to say a word, which was completely unlike his usual deliberate attentiveness.

Lyra's face grew sullen.

Melvin, who was unaware of it, turned his head to glance at the clock on the living room's wall.

It was almost noon.

He consciously went to the kitchen to cook.

Lyra was sitting on the sofa in a dominant way. Her red lips were slightly raised. she opened her mouth, and what she said was with indifferent tone that was not allow others to put in a word.

"Come here."

Melvin's broad back stiffened and he dutifully twisted around to stand at her heels.

She didn't look up, and her expression was a little cold, "I remember you said yourself that you won't let me look up."

Melvin stood still and found it troublesome as he noticed that she was still treating him with a cold attitude.

Did Keith really not tell her that he saved her?

So Lyra was going to deal with the matter that Ashley and he went to charity party together as soon as she got back today?

Originally, he was thinking that he could give credit where credit was due, but suddenly he felt his heart was clogged and stuffy and he couldn't breathe a little.

"Hmm?"

It was a rather majestic onomatopoeia, with a delicate voice especially belonging to a woman.

Lyra got a little impatient for waiting.

Melvin was stunned for two seconds, got down on one knee and slowly moved towards her feet. His eyes were still downcast, and his eyelashes were gently fluttering.

Lyra felt his mood and found even more strange. She gently hooked his chin with her fingertips, forcing him to lift his face.

Now they were looking at each other.

Melvin's eyes were slightly red and his black pupils were trying to cover up but failed to hide the grievance and vulnerability.

He looked like he was of being bullied by her, sickly and extremely innocent.

Lyra's brow furrowed even deeper.

She hadn't even asked anything yet, and now he felt wronged?

"What have you been doing these two days. Keith seems to have said that you are not allowed to go out. Why have you not done any housework?"

Melvin pursed his lips, feeling like his heart was being grabbed, and it hurt so much that he couldn't breathe.

Lyra lifted his chin upper, "Speak. Are you a dummy?"

"Recuperate."

He was recuperate. His voice was low and hoarse, but the tone was with grumble.

Or was he really a dummy?

Lyra laughed softly, "What's wrong with your voice? What's wrong with you?"

"Fever."

He stayed in the villa for two days without going out, and it didn't rain for the past two days. How could he have a fever?

Looking at his pale and sickly face, she guessed the fever was not light in the past two days.

Lyra had a speculation in her mind.

She released the hand that held his chin, "Don't squat. Sit on the couch across."

Melvin didn't refuse, got up and sat down on the small couch on the side.

His whole body almost ran out of strength after squatting for a while and his legs began numbing and the head was still a little dizzy.

If he squatted a little longer, he was afraid that he would not be able to hold on.

Lyra raised her hand and poured herself a glass of water with dignity and grace before continuing to ask, "What happened to the injuries on Seventeen? Who did it?"

Melvin watched her drink water, the knot in his throat unconsciously rolled and he talked nonsense calmly, "I was lying in the room for two days. I have no idea. Maybe he fell."

Neither was willing to tell her the truth yet.

Lyra didn't bother to dwell on the matter and returned to the subject, "What did you do on the day of the charity party?"

Two days ago, there were forty people.

She wanted Ashley to fully feel the majestic momentum too.

But Eleven and Twelve were still lying in the hospital. Fifteen and Seventeen seemed to have been injured.

She simply called Jackie, "Call some tough guys from the organization. Your boss is gonna fight!"

Melvin listened to their conversation and heard the words of "organization" and "boss"?

Soon, Lyra assembled fifty people. Plus Melvin's people and herself, there were a total of fifty-eight people.

The ground would tremble lightly when they walked together.

The momentum from afar looked intimidating.

Lyra was satisfied and was ready to go when her wrist was abruptly clutched.

Melvin stared at her with a depressed look and accused, "Fighting without me?"

Lyra blinked her eyes and gently patted his waxen cheek with a smile, "Good boy, you're sick. You can't."

Although Lyra didn't mean it that way, the words "you can't" deeply stimulated Melvin in front of so many people.

Melvin's face was solemn and he emphasized seriously while grinding his teeth.

"I can!"

...

the Harrington Manor.

The bodyguards at the door were bored when they suddenly felt imposing and well-trained footsteps, and even the glasses of water on the table were trembling.

They turned their heads in amazement.

A woman, wearing windbreaker and red dress, was domineering and enchanting, with stunning features, followed by a large group of tall and strong men.

They were coming this way aggressively from fifty meters away.

She was much smaller than the men behind her, but her aura was not suppressed at all, like a queen on high, with her black knights riding in.

"Holy crap!"

The Harrington family's bodyguards were terrified, "Go and inform Miss and Mrs.!"