The President’s Mistake A Tale of Love and Regret

Chapter 8

The moment Freya saw Jacob, she was shocked until she abruptly sat up. And she felt dizzy and almost fell off the bed.

"Be careful!" Jacob hurriedly helped her, and he grinned.

His smile could have captured countless women's hearts in Saeville, but it did not even move her heart by one bit.

She broke free from his support, and she got off the bed by carefully holding on to the edge of the bed. Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

At that moment, Jacob's signature smile turned awkward. And he blocked her way.

"Your doctor mentioned that your gastric problem is severe; lay down and rest! Where are you trying to go?"

"I'll get whatever you need for you!"

She was taken aback as Jacob was someone indifferent; he would never serve people; he seemed suspiciously friendly to her.

She smiled bitterly and walked toward the door.

"Freya, what do you want?" Jacob was never ignored by anyone in his life, so he got upset and grabbed her by the arms.

"Mr. Rivera, I have to get back to work." Freya did not dare to offend him; she knew that he was not as kind as he looked. He contributed to Nathaniel's plan by bringing down the Gomez family years ago.

But she could not see their change of attitude toward her. They were so ruthless and cruel to her back then; she could not get used to the change now.

She bowed slowly to him, and she said carefully, "Mr. Rivera, thank you for sending me to the hospital."

By now, Freya could see that he was the one who saved her from the Room 607 incidents.

She did not know his intention, but she still had to thank him.

Jacob did not know how to continue the conversation with her acting like this. He let go of her arm, and he handed her a card.

"You can simply spend it with this card. I have a condominium in Paradise Palms; you should move in and live there."

"I'll settle your job for you; you worked in the design industry before, right? You could draw and also play the piano, am I correct? I've got a friend who owns a design company; you can go and work for him."

"Based on your previous qualifications and talents, you can definitely get a high salary."

Design company, high salary, luxury condominium... It all sounds like a faraway dream to me; I can never go back...

She smiled bitterly and showed him his hand.

She had been wearing a thin velvet glove on her left hand for years; the glove was worn out, and there was even a hole in it.

She always hid this hand behind her or in her sleeve, so that no one could see it.

She had a drip last night on her right hand because she was even hiding her left hand in sleep.

It was an unbearable nightmare for her, yet at this moment, she took off the glove and showed it to him.

Her hands were pretty, and her fingers were slender. Her piano teacher said that she was born to be a pianist.

Her hands were fair and soft, and she made sure that they were always protected. Sometimes, she would be a hand model just for fun.

Now, other than her thumb, all four fingers of her left hand were broken. There were hyperplastic tissues growing on the joints; they were ugly and swollen.

Her fingers were deformed as they were forcefully broken; she could not even use them for daily activities, let alone playing the piano.

Jacob fixed his gaze on her hand with deadly seriousness; he knew she could play the piano.He even eavesdropped on her practicing it; she always won the gold medal in the children's competition.

His breathing became rapid, and he lost his words.

He snorted, "Did your jailmates do this to you?"

She lowered her head, and she put the glove back. She forced a smile at him.

"Mr. Rivera, thanks for caring. But… But it's not important anymore."

He gasped, and he pushed the card toward her. "Take the card now; I know you hate me; just think of it as compensation from me."

He felt terrible for her, and he could not describe how he felt at the moment.

Freya pushed his card away and was about to say something, but there were footsteps closing in on them.

Peyton had dark circles under her eyes, and she did not even have the time to remove her makeup. Her face was pale as an aftereffect of being drunk.

She rushed into the ward with a lunchbox; she was caught by surprise by Jacob being there.

She looked at Freya and asked, "Fay, are you alright?"

"I drank way too much and passed out yesterday." "How are you?"

Freya breathed a sigh of relief seeing Peyton unharmed; she grabbed her hand and said, "Let's go; we'll talk about it at home."

"Huh? Can you be discharged now?" Peyton hurriedly grabbed her arm and said, "You should be in the hospital for a few more days; I'll come visit after work daily."

"The charge of a single ward is very high; I feel better after getting a drip. So, let's get some prescription medication and let me rest at home. It's all the same."

Peyton agreed with her after hearing her words, so she brought Freya away from the ward.

Jacob was grabbing hard at his card; he felt uncomfortable at the moment. He could not accept the fact of Freya's disabled hand; it pained him.

He did not know what was happening now. They used to play together for a period of time when they were both young, and he went abroad. The moment he stepped foot back in the country, he had to go against her.

He did not expect himself to be obsessive after seeing her for three years.

He clenched his fists, and the bank card was hurting him.

Freya and Peyton left after going through all the payment procedures.

Peyton did not dare to fetch her with her electric motorcycle; Freya looked so weak as if she could fall off the motorcycle anytime.

So, they spent money to get a taxi. Peyton smiled and opened up the lunchbox in the taxi; it was filled with mashed potatoes.

"C'mon, eat it."

Looking at the hot food in front of her, Freya's heart felt warm.

The taxi drove off from the hospital entrance. None of them realized that there was a man in a black Bugatti quietly watching them from afar.

The car window was rolled up, blocking people from seeing Nathaniel, who was sitting expressionlessly inside the car.

He leaned back on the car seat and lit a cigarette. He took a puff.

Koen Martinezs private assistant could feel that he was not in a good mood.

In the past few days, Mr. Morgan has been smoking more than usual.

Mr. Morgan is a very disciplined man who doesn't play with women. He has a healthy exercise and eating habit; he barely drinks. To be frank, he doesn't act like a young person.

The only issue with him is that he can really smoke. He had beenquitting smoking for a while; what's causing him to smoke again?

And he had been having insomnia for the past few days, drinking alone in his room. What's happening to him?

"Koen!" Nathaniel's voice was hoarse after smoking a lot.

"Yes, Mr. Morgan?" Koan turned to look at him respectfully.

Nathaniel said slowly, "Mr. Rivera is very free nowadays; assign him something to do so that he can't be in Saeville for a period of time."

Koen was dumbfounded. Since when did Mr. Rivera offend Mr. Morgan?