Pampered By The Ruthless Underground Boss

Chapter 37
Chapter 37:
Not long after her eyes closed, a knock echoed at the door. After receiving no answer for a moment, Henrik furrowed his brow
and stepped into the room, only to see her fast asleep on the sofa.
She lay curled in an uncomfortable position, her cheek resting against the cushions, her features puffed slightly, radiating a
sweetness and charm seldom seen.
Anyone who looked at her would feel their heart melt, and Henrik was no exception.
Gently setting the ointment aside, he moved without a sound, crouching beside Khloe and fixing his gaze on her. His eyes were
dark and unreadable, like the depths of a hidden lake, but beneath the surface lingered a quiet warmth, as if he were trying to
peer into her very soul.
Henrik’s presence seemed to stir something in Khloe, her brow knitting together in discomfort and her lips pulling into a tight line,
almost as though she were about to wake up.

Henrik exhaled quietly, his fingers tenderly brushing through Khloe’s hair. “Rest well,” he whispered.
The warmth in his voice was almost enchanting, deep and tender, as it seemed to melt the frown from Khloe’s face. With great
care, he lifted her wounded hand and noticed the faint redness and the small cuts marking her skin.
He frowned just a bit, his usual indifference to his own pain giving way to concern. The small cuts on Khloe’s hand seemed to
trouble him more than they should.
“What a stubborn woman,” he murmured under his breath. He unscrewed the lid of the ointment and smeared it over her hand
gently.
Every movement Henrik made was deliberate. If any of his employees saw their usually cold and imposing boss acting with such
tenderness and care, they’d probably think they’d lost their minds.
Even in her sleep, Khloe seemed to feel the gentleness in his actions, her body instinctively moving closer to him as she
murmured something.

Henrik hesitated for a moment, straining to catch her words, but all he could make out were a few vague sounds. A rueful smile
tugged at his lips, but he returned to his task, moving with practiced precision.
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Once the ointment was applied, Henrik carefully set her hand back where it had been, then covered her with a light blanket. With

a gentle touch, he arranged her hair neatly on the sofa before slipping out of the room without a sound.
The following morning, Khloe awoke to a cool sensation on her hand. The small wounds from yesterday’s practice had
noticeably healed. She assumed Fiona had taken care of them and made a mental note to thank her later. As Khloe got to her
feet, Fiona appeared at the door with breakfast.
“Thanks, Fiona,” Khloe said, her smile lighting up her face.
Fiona paused, momentarily taken aback, before nodding in response. “You’re welcome, Miss Evans. Feel at home, and consider
me like family.”
A wave of warmth spread through Khloe’s chest. Her three years in prison had shown her both the harshness and kindness
people were capable of.
Yet, after her release, she had found unexpected kindness in places she never would have imagined.
Unable to stop herself, she asked, “Where’s Henrik?”
“He had to step out for some work. Do you need something? Should I give him a call?”
A small twinge of disappointment flickered through Khloe, and she shook her head. “It’s fine. I’d like to visit my mother. Can you
make that happen?”
“Of course.”
.
.
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