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.

heart, and a peculiar

emotionally, assuming she had hardened herself into ‘someone unfeeling and callous

to understand his motives. Doubt gripped her. She feared the answer might reveal a lack

Nicole's eyes,

surgeon was momentarily at a

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

protest was faint. "There's

Just turn around,” Nicole persisted, not

Nicole set to work. She meticulously cleaned the lacerations with iodine, applied

touch seemed to cause Roscoe to stiffen, a sign that such

with the bandage,

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

carried an undeniable

to accept his sacrifice and selflessness. The thought of easing her conscience through such an exchange crossed her mind, acknowledging her own

him from what she ‘saw as a pointless pursuit

Her appeal was undeniable, potent even, and for someone like

an answer, Nicole challenged the very foundation of Roscoe's actions. "Is this you've been striving for?" Roscoe's expression shifted into one of icy

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

the naivety of youth from Roscoe's features. He

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 tacit standoff, each waiting for the other to concede defeat

an inner tranquility. She held onto a sliver of certainty amid the

dared not reveal

gaze, his breath mingling with the air

Nicole's wildest scenarios. The Roscoe she knew, once easily flushed with embarrassment, had matured. His proximity sent a flutter through her lashes, a reflex she couldn't

redirected the moment's intensity into a soft caress on her cheek. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight. "Nicole, this is a game to you. Enough." He released her

remained in his car outside, succumbing to exhaustion only in the deepest hours

when the first light crept across the horizon,

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