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.

constriction around her heart, and

thought she lost the ability to connect with others emotionally, assuming

inner turmoil, she yearned to understand his motives. Doubt gripped her. She feared the answer might reveal a lack of any real purpose behind his

from Nicole's eyes,

skilled surgeon was momentarily at a loss, his hands

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

protest was faint. "There's no need

Nicole persisted, not willing to take no for an

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

to cause Roscoe to stiffen, a sign that such

finished with the bandage, Roscoe donned

of boldness, caught his hand, her question piercing the silence. "Roscoe, is it me that you want?" The interplay of

above a whisper, carried an undeniable allure as she leaned in close. "I'm here,

sacrifice and selflessness. The thought

from what she

a natural magnetism that needed no enhancement from cosmetics, Nicole's eyes held their own power. Her appeal was undeniable, potent even, and for someone like Roscoe, who

the very foundation of Roscoe's actions. "Is this you've been striving for?"

ignore the ache spreading through her chest,

condition. We end this afterward.” Gone was the naivety of youth from Roscoe's features. He

broke from him, unexpected and jarring. "Alright, let's do it," he agreed, surprising her. A ripple of panic washed over Nicole. The man before her was an enigma, changed from the Roscoe she once knew. Despite the shift, Nicole maintained her poise, her hand curving around the nape of his neck, her facade unwavering. They found themselves locked in a

submission, seeking an inner tranquility. She held onto a sliver of

not

gaze, his

knew, once easily flushed with embarrassment,

on her cheek. 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

to exhaustion

crept across the horizon, Nicole's

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