Azalea sat on the bed and waited for a nanny to finish changing her bandage. It was just a small cut that stopped bleeding a long time ago, but everyone around her made a fuss and insisted she stay in bed for at least a day.
"That's enough… I need to speak to Guzar now."
"Master?!" The elderly woman didn't like the idea. "Please rethink this, madame! At least let's wait for a few more days before he cools off!"
"He raised a hand against Mihail, his son… If I wasn't there… Who knows how it would end like?" Azalea felt faint just thinking about the possibilities. If she was any later, her son might be the one on the bed right now.
When she woke up from the coma, she knew her husband had changed. Their relationship was not ideal before her sickness, but he still gave her some face publicly. However, ten years was a long enough time for them to grow into strangers.
