After divorce I am a billionaire

Micah did not speak, always suppressing his anger.

He did not know anything happened in Frayton, but he knew that his sister married into the Freeman family for three years and suffered a lot.

After learning that Malcolm was the ex-husband of Rara at the beginning, he was also against the engagement, and even after Rara made Malcolm pay back all those debts, he always hated the prospective brother-in-law.

The reason why he was willing to stay and treat Malcolm's eyes was purely feeling heart-ached for Rara and for her sake.

Although there was anger in the heart, Micah had always been quiet, did not like to say anything more, turned around and go out.

A few minutes later, he cin with the blended pills and capsules, placed them on the bedside table, helped him pour another glass of water, and left again.

Keith looked at Micah's cold back. Knowing Micah's temper so well, he sighed silently.

Since it was tfor his medication, Keith had to wake Malcolm up.

"Rara!" Malcolm, who had just woken up, was not even conscious yet, and he was still repeating Rara.

Keith was a little moved. He really loved Rara.

"Malcolm, it's tto take your medication.” Keith lightened his tone and picked up the glass of water.

In fact, Malcolm was three years older than Keith. Malcolm was in love with his sister, and later he would be his brother-in-law.

Now he called him by his first name, which was the maximum he can accept.

Malcolm struggled to get up, found his hands and feet were bound, and the tyranny raged on his cold and horrified face.

"Let go of me. | want to see Rara!" he said in a stubborn tone, in hostility.

Keith sighed, "I told you, she's not here. Take your medicine, okay? Micah tied you up tightly. The more you struggle, the more it hurts!" Malcolm couldn't even listen to him.

Those inky eyes burned with rage, and madness engulfed his nerves. His fists clenched, and the veins on his arms bulged. His wrists and ankles quickly got sred marks by struggling.

Keith watched his crazy actions and held his forehead: "Are you mad? If you go on, my patience will wear out. And I'll get Micah to cover and force the drug. Believe it or not!" "You call Rara. Put her on speaker. | want to hear it from her in person!" Calling? Keith looked at his wristwatch. At this time, they were still on the plane and couldn't get through.

"I won't take my medicine until | see Rara!" Malcolm roared. His wrists abraded with blood, and the rope stained with bright red blood.

Keith noticed the blood on his wrists and gasped in depression.

It was only the first day and he resisted like this. They can not always tied him up every day. When Rara cback, and saw Malcolm's injury ...

He gave in and slapped his head a few times as if venting his anger.

Torturing! It was too torturing! "How am | supposed to get you on the phone when Rara's on the plane? Besides, if you hurt yourself, Rara will be hurt when she finds out! I'm begging you. Will you behave yourself?" "Why is Rara on the plane? Where does she go?" "You want to know that badly?" Keith had an idea: "How about | help you untie the rope and tell you where Rara goes as long as you stop moving around?" The violent Malcolm on the bed quieted down instantly, with his chest heaving violently, which signaled the madness he had just committed.

Keith breathed a sigh of relief.

Surely the only thing that can subdue him was Rara.

"Don't move. Don't move! I'll untie you. And if you dare to make a scene as soon as you're untied, or try to fightagain, you won't know where Rara is!" With this threat, Malcolm finally behaved himself.

When he was quiet, his hollow and dark eyes were slightly downcast. Hidden under long and curling lashes, his pale face was sickly.

Keith helped him untie the rope, and took alcohol to disinfect him.

The pain stung from the alcohol dripping on the wound, and with Malcolm's invisibility, the physical pain was magnified several times.

But he just tightened his brows without uttering a word, and if it weren't for the uncontrollable trembling of his fingertips, Keith would have thought the virus had paralyzed his pain nerves.

"It hurts, right? The fact that it hurts proves you are still alive. As a patient, can't you be a bit patient conscious?" Keith spoke in a low tone, scolding while fetching bandages to bind him up.

Malcolm had little expression and no retort, but simply asked, "Where does Rara go?" "Out of the country." Keith kept it short and simple.

"Out of the country?" Malcolm sat up and leaned over the bed, "Why does she leave the country? What is she going to do when she goes so far away?" "You still want to know?" Keith raised an eyebrow.

Malcolm nodded. His sanity gradually recovered, and his face returned to its usual coldness and sullenness.

Keith continued his trick: "Since you want to know the truth, take your medication. I'll tell you if you can manage to be peaceful all day today." He handed Malcolm the pills and capsules from the bedside table into the palm of his left hand, and the glass of water was tucked into his right hand.

"Hold it. Don't spill the water." Malcolm did not hesitate to pour more than a dozen pills and capsules into his mouth and swallow them with water.

The whole mouth was full of strong and bitter taste. It was so bitter that Malcolm's face went pale, resisting the urge to retch for several times.

But Keith was still sharp-eyed enough to notice that his expression was not right. He furrowed his eyebrows as well, "Is it that bitter?" As soon as he finished asking the question, Keith understood.

It must be Micah's doing.

Micah, who always said few words, and had the aloof and arrogant temperament, was referred to as the medical geek. He was the last person who can be messed because he always had sways to deal with people he didn't like! Keith, with a guilty conscience, remembered Lyra's instructions before she left. He took a milk candy out of his suit pocket and slipped it into Malcolm's hand.

"This is from Rara. She said you like this flavor of milk candy the most. She bought a lot of them. She explained | should give you a candy every t| keep an eye on you after taking your medicine. Anyway, | did the errand. Eat it or not, it's up to you." Keith was actually very confused. Malcolm was a twenty-eight-year-old man and the head of White family. He was not a child.

Would he like to eat milk candy? It was simply unbelievable.

Malcolm, who got the milk candy, gently rubbed the candy paper with his long fingers, and his expression gradually becsofter, without the hostility just now.

He fumbled to the edge of the candy paper, tore open the package, put it into his mouth and ate the candy without saying a word.

The familiar milk flavor faintly melted in his mouth, bringing his thoughts back to every night when he was fed medicine mouth-to- mouth by Lyra, and every sweet day and night they had for over a month.

Keith noticed the redness at the outer corners of his eyes, "What's wrong with you again? Is it not good or does it hurt somewhere?" Malcolm did not explain. His eyelids drooped feebly, looking depressed.

Keith cautiously reminded, "You made the injury to your wrists. When Rara comes back, you can not blme this, not to mention | was hit by you today. My right shoulder bone is still painful.” Malcolm lay under the quilt and rolled over, turning his back to Keith, "I want to be alone for a while." Keith got up, "Okay, what do you want for breakfast? I'll have someone prepare it and I'll cback in in an hour." "I don't wanna eat." Malcolm's body lay on his side and he closed his eyes.

"No. You have to eat. Do you still want to know about Rara?" MMMWWLIIOIfIO&1 MMMWWLIIOIfIO&1 mmMwWLLIOfiflO& 1 MMMWWLIIOIfIO&1 MULL TO £2 E1061 mmMwWLIiIOfiflO&1