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.

her heart, and a peculiar

with others emotionally, assuming she had hardened herself

to understand his motives. Doubt gripped her. She

from Nicole's eyes, landing on Roscoe's

faltered. The once skilled surgeon was momentarily at a loss, his hands fumbling as he tried to

her tears, Nicole mustered a smile and took charge. "Turn around. Let me see to those

was faint. "There's no need

Nicole persisted, not willing to take

cleaned the lacerations with iodine, applied clotting

seemed to cause Roscoe to stiffen, a sign that such care was foreign

with the bandage,

it me that you want?" The interplay of light and shadow in the room highlighted the clean lines

barely above a whisper, carried an undeniable allure as

thought of easing her conscience through such an exchange crossed her mind, acknowledging her own fears

him from what she ‘saw as a pointless

appeal was undeniable, potent even, and

of Roscoe's actions. "Is this you've been striving

spreading through her chest, pressed on. "Roscoe,

the naivety of youth from Roscoe's features. He regarded her with a discernment honed

Nicole maintained her poise, her hand curving around the nape of his neck, her facade unwavering. They found themselves locked in a tacit standoff, each waiting for the other to

seeking an inner tranquility. She held onto a sliver of certainty amid the tension. Roscoe, in spite of his ire,

not reveal her

her gaze, his

Roscoe she knew, once easily flushed with embarrassment, had matured.

His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight. "Nicole, this is a game to you. Enough." He released her and departed, his departure as swift as a shadow fleeing

remained in his car outside, succumbing to

crept