Chapter 4

Downstairs, Melanie was feeling rather restless and uneasy. She genuinely hoped that Derrick was fine. In Derrick's bedroom, Wilson got ready to leave. He had rushed over as soon as he could, so he was rather tired and sleepy at the moment. Derrick glared at him. "Wait a minute." Pausing briefly, he went on in an uncomfortable tone, "There's something else." Wilson glanced at him and asked, "Are you feeling unwell elsewhere?" "No, that's not it." Derrick himself felt awkward at what he was about to ask. He licked his dry lips before ordering, his expression stony, "Help me wipe down there." Wilson was briefly taken aback. "Didn't the caretaker already clean you?" The look in Derrick's eyes was as cold as ice as he muttered in frustration, "She didn't clean it well, alright?" Still, Wilson remained unmoving. He was a doctor, not a nurse or a caretaker, so wiping down patients wasn't part of his job description. Derrick shot him a sharp glare. "Am I paying you a six-digit salary for nothing?" Wilson didn't even last three seconds before he conceded defeat in the face of money. Nonetheless, he still threw a jab, "Then you can't get a reaction from my touch, okay?" "Fuck you!" … The first thing Wilson saw after coming back downstairs was Melanie pacing in the living room. Upon hearing his footsteps, Melanie subconsciously looked up, only to lock gazes with him. She was a little surprised when Wilson immediately scanned her from head to toe without even hiding it. Then an amused look entered his eyes. "You're divorced?" Melanie nodded. "With a kid?" Another nod. "How old is he or she?" This time, Melanie frowned and didn't answer. Narrowing his eyes, Wilson said, "I'm just asking out of curiosity. It's fine even if you don't answer me." Melanie remained silent, not telling him anything. "I have to say, from your appearance alone, you don't look like someone who's given birth once already. If it weren't for those glasses of yours, or perhaps if you put a little more effort into dolling yourself up, you'd probably be quite pretty." Wilson didn't press the issue. After all, such information could easily be found if he looked into it. However, since she refused to share, he wouldn't force her. He simply reached out to take her glasses off. Melanie swiftly backed away, her expression almost fearful. "Dr. Moore, I have incredibly bad eyesight, so I won't be able to see anything without my glasses. Besides, it's impossible to tell a woman's real age by appearance alone nowadays." Wilson nodded with exaggerated solemnity. "You're absolutely right. There was this one influencer who came to my hospital for plastic surgery. On the surface, she looked to be in her 20s, yet the moment she showed her ID, I saw that she was already 45!" He clicked his tongue in disappointment. Melanie merely smiled tightly and didn't comment. A teasing smirk curved Wilson's lips as he said, "Take good care of your employer. He's been in a bad mood lately and is prone to angry outbursts. Just endure it, okay?" The smile never left Melanie's face as she nodded. Wilson had to walk past her on his way out, but then he suddenly stopped and leaned close to complain in her ear, "Oh, by the way, next time you help your boss wipe down there, make sure to clean it properly. It's truly such a waste for these hands, that are meant to perform life-saving surgeries, to complete such a menial task." Melanie's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and her face instantly turned cherry red. She thought in shock, "Wait… so Derrick called him over to help clean his lower region? That's just…" Her reaction had Wilson smiling in satisfaction. "Don't tell him about this. It'll be our little secret. Besides, he's a prideful man." Melanie grimaced slightly, feeling like she was about to go mad. How could such a thing happen on just her second day of work here? She prayed fervently that Renard would return soon. … Fortunately, Melanie ran into Renard the moment she exited her room the next morning. Her eyes lit up in delight. "Renard, you're back!" Renard smiled at her. Upon noticing the dark circles under her eyes, he said somewhat pityingly, "Mel, you must have had it rough last night." He was well aware of what Derrick was like at night. During the daytime hours, Derrick seemed poised, but at night, he would turn irritable and moody. The stress of having to deal with that was the reason Renard fell sick in the first place. "Don't mention it. It's the least I could do." After a moment of hesitation, Melanie added awkwardly, "But Renard, I think it's best if you handle Mr. Quinton's hygiene care from now on." Renard immediately shook his head. "Mel, how about I pay you an extra two thousand monthly for you to take on this task?" Two thousand dollars wasn't enough for Melanie to bend over backward. She hurriedly refused, "I'm worried that I won't be able to keep myself from pouncing on him, so you should do it." "Five thousand dollars!" Melanie gritted her teeth, feeling conflicted. After all, an extra five thousand each month was a rather substantial sum. Renard, who had been working for Derrick for a long time, had become skilled at observing others' facial expressions and emotions. He hastily put on a wide smile. "Eight thousand dollars! That will make your monthly salary 58 thousand! How about it?" He could tell that Melanie was in dire need of money. Melanie blinked in thought, but just as she opened her mouth to reply, a loud crash sounded from Derrick's bedroom. Melanie and Renard froze in surprise before rushing into his room. What greeted them was Derrick's icy expression and shattered glass littering the floor. His dark orbs shone with displeasure as he snapped, "What, is 50 thousand dollars a month not enough? Isn't taking care of me her job responsibility? Yet, you dare go behind my back and raise her salary yourself. Since when did a butler like you have that much authority? In that case, why don't you be the master of this house? I'll be the one to wait on you!" Renard remained silent, not daring to make a sound. "Mr. Quinton, this is my problem, so please don't blame Renard. You're right—it's my responsibility to look after you," Melanie said hesitantly. She kept her head bowed slightly as she tried to soothe Derrick's ruffled feathers. Letting out a snort, he retorted, "Glad that you're at least aware of that. Get lost if you can't do your job properly! I don't need useless trash working for me." Even with those harsh words, Melanie didn't get angry. Her tone was still as calm as ever when she replied, "Understood, Mr. Quinton." Once again, Derrick felt as though he were punching at thin air. Did this woman have no temper at all? He furrowed his brow impatiently before grimly instructing Renard, "Get me the surveillance footage from the day of my birthday." Not daring to ask why, Renard hurriedly nodded. Melanie, who was standing off to the side, immediately felt her heart pounding in her chest as her vision began to dim. She couldn't believe that he had actually installed surveillance cameras inside his own home. As though his eyes had inbuilt radar systems, Derrick instantly zeroed in on her. "Melanie York!" His abrupt bellow of her name caused Melanie to jolt in surprise. "Huh?" Narrowing his eyes, he demanded, "What are you feeling guilty about?" "I'm not feeling guilty. You must be mistaken." Melanie kept her head bowed low, though she was inwardly panicking. As she and Renard left the room, both had gloomy expressions on their faces. Melanie apologized, "I'm so sorry for getting you involved in this, Renard." Renard waved his hand dismissively. "It's not your fault. Mr. Quinton has a check-up scheduled for later. He's usually in a terrible mood when he has to go to the hospital. That's why you shouldn't take his words to heart. He isn't a bad person. He's just prone to angry outbursts." While nodding, she mused that this was the second time she had heard someone warning her about Derrick's moody behavior. That day was Saturday, so she had to visit Louisa at the hospital as promised. Hence, she quickly pushed this unhappy incident to the back of her mind. As for the surveillance footage, she had already thought of what excuse she could use. Since Derrick's villa was in a more remote neighborhood, Melanie had to walk for over ten minutes before she could hail a taxi. By the time she arrived at the hospital, two hours had already gone by.