A sudden surge of pain hit her mouth, her tongue feeling numb from the scalding. The hot feeling rushed down her throat into her stomach, warming her up but also bringing more intense pain.

The spicy ginger soup irritated her stomach, and her scorched throat started itching. She couldn't help it and threw up.

The yellow ginger soup mixed with the undigested medicine splashed all over Brett.

Brett was a bit of a clean freak, maybe even a severe case. Seeing the vomit all over his upper body and arm, all sticky and smelling sour, he winced and tried to hold his breath.

"Izabella, did you do it on purpose, throwing up all over me?" He was utterly disgusted, pushing Izabella away and putting down the bowl in his hand. He quickly grabbed some paper towels to wipe himself, but the more he wiped, the more nauseous he felt.

Izabella's face turned even paler after vomiting. She held her stomach with one hand and wiped her mouth with the other. Upon hearing Brett's words, she looked up to see his gloomy face.

"I told you I didn't want to drink it, but you insisted on force-feeding me!" So who could she blame?

And it wasn't intentional. If she could choose, she would have thrown up even more on him, disgusting him so much that he wouldn't dare to touch her again.

After wiping himself for a while, the irritable Brett furiously took off his shirt and threw it on the ground, then reached out towards Izabella.

Izabella's eyes flickered, and she instinctively shrank back into the blanket like a turtle that senses danger and retreats into its shell.

Brett was taken aback. He hadn't expected his simple action would frighten Izabella like a scared bird.

Perhaps his facial expression scared her too. Brett slightly softened his look and went closer, pinching Izabella's chin gently.

Izabella tried to avoid him, but he gently touched her head, "Why are you hiding? Weren't you all high and mighty just now? Now you're scared?"

Izabella didn't like him touching her head. To other people, it might be an intimate gesture, but between her and Brett, it was just a sign of disdain, just like randomly petting a dog when you're in a good mood.

Recently, Brett had indeed treated her like a dog, trying to tame her into submission and obedience.

Brett pulled Izabella out of the blanket, her weight as light as a feather, hardly the weight of an adult.

Izabella was delicate, with fair, smooth skin that would bruise easily. Her lips were swollen, clearly from the scalding when he fed her ginger soup earlier.

But he didn't think it was hot when he touched the bowl...

Brett gently touched her face, "Open your mouth, let me take a look."

Izabella turned her head away, her throat burning in pain. In a hoarse voice, she said, "Don't touch me."

"I won't do anything this time. I just want to see if you're injured inside your mouth."

What if she was injured? Could he heal it? Izabella absolutely hated this fake concern from Brett.

"Get away from me." Izabella pushed him away, but with no success.

Brett's brows furrowed. He had already lowered his voice and humbled himself, and Izabella still wouldn't cooperate, which didn't make him feel any better. He cradled her face, pinching her jaw to open her mouth to check inside.

To Izabella, it felt like her jaw would be crushed under his grip, the pain making her eyes tear up. She involuntarily let out a groan, and tears welled up in her eyes. Brett didn't care about her discomfort. He continued to examine her mouth and saw a few blisters inside, along with some loose skin on the roof of her mouth. No bleeding, but it would definitely hurt.

Brett felt a bit guilty. "Why didn't you say it was hot when I was feeding you? What if you had scalded your face? You would look like a toad."

Izabella had already grown used to his pointless remarks.

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