Hank's tone was cold, "It's sweet."
Sara was speechless. She thought, "Pure milk was tasteless!"
She put the glass back hastily and asked, "...Master, would you like some milk as well?"
"No." Hank pinched her fingers lightly, "It's late, time for bed."
Sara replied, "Okay." As she was turning sideway to pull her blanket, the collar of her pajamas slid aside, revealing her slender white neck and dainty collarbone.
Hank spotted an attractive red mole on the left of her neck, like a drop of blood in a glass of pure milk. It was so gorgeous.
Sara was just beginning to tuck herself under the blanket when there was a sudden force fell on her, pinning her down against the plush mattress.
She was startled.
Hank stroked her neck slowly. His eyes was very dark in black color, just like him, people couldn't tell how he was feeling.
Sara was shocked. She thought Hank was going to snap her neck, but Hank was stroking it, as though it was fine porcelain.
Then, he lowered his gaze and gradually his lips fell on the red mole on her neck.
Sara could only feel the part of her skin was hot and cold upon at the same time. The conflicting sensations were enough to drive anyone mad.
Hank bit the red mole lightly, his tone was somewhat blurry, "It's very beautiful."
Sara took a while to come out of her trance and then only realized that Hank was referring to her red mole. She didn't know how to respond to a compliment like that. Hence, she could only reply, "...Thank you."
Hank chuckled. He then kissed her smooth skin again. When he lowered his head, he noticed there was also a red mole on her collarbone which looked like a butterfly's wings.
Bright red color would look especially seductive on skin that looked as fair as milk.
Hank's expression darkened as he asked, "Do you have any other moles on your body? Hmm?"
Sara replied in a daze, "...On my back."
Hank raised his hand to strip away her pajamas.
Sara was startled, coming out of her trance. She held tightly onto the bottom of her pajamas, blushing as she said, "Master Bishop!"
Hank smiled, "Are you shy?"
Sara bit her bottom lip and nodded.
He did not force her. He moved his thumb over the red mole on her neck, "Tell me something nice then."
Sara didn't know what to say.
Hank raised his eyebrows, "Hey kid, don't you know that older men have a soft spot for flattery?"
Sara replied subconciously, "But you're not too old!"
Hank was pleased by her answer. He said, "You are quite good at sweet talking, aren't you?"
Sara could not believe it was so easy to coax him.
She held onto the bottom of her shirt. Her face was red. She looked at Hank, "Uncle, it's quite late now. You are not very healthy, you should sleep now..."
Hank checked the time. It was almost ten o'clock at night. As soon as he nodded, there was someone knocking at the door.
Hank's gaze went icy. He asked coldly, "What is the matter?"
It was Bella at the door, "Master, there's an emergency with Madam Bishop.
Hank wasn't close to his grandmother. He said indifferently, "It's none of my business."
Bella said, "Your younger brother has sent someone to escort you over there. It seems quite serious this time. Dr. Livingston didn't know what to do as well. He's trying to transfer her to the hospital. Master, you should go to have a look."
Hank stared at the ground for a while, and said to Sara who was beside, "Hey kid, get changed and come with me."
Surprised at the sudden invitation, Sara said, "Huh?"
After ten minutes, Sara was pushing Hank in a wheelchair into Madam Bishop's garden.
Mrs. Bishop really enjoyed her life a lot. Even though her courtyard was not particularly big, the plants and decorations were exquisite and extremely valuable. She also had more than ten servants. If on usual visit, people could witness how powerful Mrs. Bishop was. However, at the moment, everyone in the courtyard was going crazy.
Seeing Hank's arrival, they fell into silence. Simon was frowning, pursing his lips. Obviously, things weren't looking too good.
He greeted Sara politely and turned to Hank and said, "Dr. Livingston said that she might have had a stroke and that she needed to admit to the hospital immediately."
Compared to Simon, Hank was a lot calmer, as though it wasn't his grandmother at the brink of death. Her servants felt somewhat indignant at how callous he was. but they did not dare to say a word.
The cold made Hank look bloodless. Hank said to the middle-aged doctor, "Tell me about her condition."
Dr. Livingston was perspiring profusely. He didn't dare to look at Hank in the eyes. He said, "Mrs. Bishop has been complaining of a headache since morning. Since Mrs. Bishop always had a headache, so the servants didn't contact me directly. Instead, they did as Madam told and prepared chicken soup for her. It was around three o'clock in the afternoon, Madam ordered all of the servants to leave so she could take a nap. They didn't think much at that time, but until six o'clock in the evening, Madam didn't ask for anyone to enter her room. The servants felt strange, so they went in to check on her. They found Madam Bishop with her eyes and mouth twisted, half of her body was already paralyzed. They were shocked and quickly contacted me..."
The family doctor swallowed before continuing, "...Strokes are aggressive and worsen very quickly. If Madam had come to me when she was having headache, I would have been able to stabilize her condition but now... the only option is to send her to the hospital immediately."
Hank looked indifferent, "Where is the person taking care of Madam?"
A middle-aged woman fell to her knees and confessed, "Master Bishop, it's me... It's me."
Sara had been listening quietly. She glanced at the woman and realized that she knew her - When she came to the Bishop family, she was the one who had commanded her to take off her clothes and had done a strip search of her. If she was not mistaken, it was Aunt Lester.
However, at that moment, Aunt Lester was no longer arrogant as she used to be. She was sweating all over her body, even her voice was shaking, "Master Bishop... it's my fault! I didn't take good care of Madam Bishop..."
He looked at her coldly and said indifferently, "Of course it's your fault, who else would it be?"
Aunt Lester was so frightened that she started sobbing, afraid that she would be shot to death in the next seconds.
Sara pursed her lips and turning her gaze to the bed.