Love Unbreakable by Bank Brook

Chapter 453 Nicole pivoted and made her way to Roscoe's door.

Finding it unlocked, Nicole swung it open without a second thought. "Roscoe, what..." she began, but the sight before her cut her words short.

Roscoe was perched on a stool, clumsily dressing wounds that marred his back. A deep laceration ran from his shoulder to his lower back.

Struggling to reach the injury, his efforts to apply medicine were ineffective, and the bleeding hadn't stopped.

Nicole's eyes stung with unshed tears at the sight.

As Roscoe noticed her gaze, he hastily covered up and tried to rise.

‘Stay seated, Nicole insisted, her voice thick with emotion.

She reached out, touching his shoulder gingerly. Roscoe sank back down, attempting to downplay his injuries. "It's nothing, really. It's just now that I've seen it..." Nicole, her tone laden with disbelief, pressed, "Do you take me for a fool?"

In the midst of a heavy silence, Nicole's voice trembled slightly. "Is this from the parking lot incident?" Her mind flashed back to the guards, their hands wielding sinister, blade-like weapons, which she had first mistaken for whips.

Those very weapons were intended for her, but Roscoe had intercepted the blow, taking the hit in her stead. When Nicole broached the subject, Roscoe dismissed it with a stoic front. "It's nothing. I've weathered worse." Nicole, driven by concern, unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the grim reality of his injuries. It confirmed Jarrod's words.

Roscoe's existence within the Watts dynasty was fraught with hardship.

As she reached out, Roscoe caught her hand in a tender grasp, stopping her. "Careful, you'll soil your hands," he cautioned.

Nicole bowed her head, noting the crimson that had already transferred to her skin.

With quiet care, Roscoe wiped her hand clean, ensuring

no trace of the ordeal remained on her.

a constriction around her heart, and a

with others emotionally, assuming

She feared the answer might reveal a lack of

spilled from Nicole's eyes, landing

"It's not worth it, Roscoe..." Roscoe's composure faltered. The once skilled surgeon was momentarily at a loss, his hands fumbling as he tried to comfort her. "Nicole," he uttered

and took charge. "Turn around. Let me

protest was faint. "There's no need for

Just turn around,” Nicole persisted, not willing

to her, Nicole set to work. She meticulously cleaned the lacerations with iodine, applied clotting agents, and

stiffen, a

Nicole finished with the bandage, Roscoe donned a white

the silence. "Roscoe, is it me that you want?" The interplay of

barely above a whisper, carried an undeniable allure as she leaned

sacrifice and selflessness. The thought of easing her conscience through such an exchange crossed her mind,

awaken him from what she ‘saw as a pointless pursuit

held their own power. Her appeal was undeniable, potent even,

you've been striving for?" Roscoe's expression shifted into one of icy detachment, his demeanor chilling as

to ignore the ache spreading through her chest, pressed on. "Roscoe, I

was the naivety of youth from

of his neck, her facade unwavering. They found themselves locked in a tacit standoff, each waiting for the other to concede defeat first. Roscoe's stubbornness matched her own. His frustration was palpable. He caught her hand firmly, pinning it against the wall, his proximity closing in, his tone roughened.

sliver of certainty

dared not reveal her

unto themselves, held her gaze, his

knew, once easily flushed

voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight. "Nicole, this is a game to you. Enough." He released

car outside, succumbing to exhaustion only in the deepest hours of

the first light crept across the