Richest Mogul

Chapter 1822

Vivian's eyes gleamed with mischief as she whispered, "Next time, I'll bring something—something just for hitting people. That way, I can keep my hands clean and still make them pay for you."

Her mind was already spinning with ideas. She would concoct something that caused painful, itchy welts to bloom across their skin, making them suffer the same torment they had inflicted.

Manfred smiled and nodded. "Sounds good."

Their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them. Outside the door, the maid remained unfazed, receiving no response from Manfred. She was accustomed to his silence.

Getting him to speak was nearly impossible, especially now that he was hovering on the brink of death.

No one had bothered to summon a doctor for his injuries despite being beaten so brutally by Randall Atkinson. He might even end up a cripple after this. He was no more valuable to them than a maid-perhaps even less so. A broken, useless man wasn't worth the trouble.

"If you still won't answer, then I'll assume you still don't understand what you did wrong. We'll leave you locked up for a few more days. Just three more days, and maybe then you'll figure it out."

The maid's voice faded as her footsteps receded.

Once the maid was gone, Vivian immediately turned to Manfred. "Sit down and take off your shirt. I need to check your wounds. I wasn't able to come yesterday, but I have a feeling I'll be able to come every day from now on."

Manfred stiffened at her words.

still, Vivian asked, "What's wrong? Your wounds need to be re- dressed, or

need for more treatment." Manfred avoided Vivian's gaze, his

no way they're healed. Those wounds were serious. Sit

tone was soft

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wasn't going to let him suffer in silence anymore. She didn't care how he'd managed on his own before. Now that she was here she wouldn't let him face all

SWI

wouldn't be as severe. More importantly, it would reduce the risk of infection

had no choice but

his shirt, revealing his battered torso.

body should

flawless. He feared

might think when she

injuries. His body was just a tool, and its condition was irrelevant. But now, he wanted to be better for her. She made him

eyes. The wounds looked no better than

it hurt?" she asked, her voice quivering as she worked with care. She had done her best to be as gentle

voice betraying no sign of