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

connect with others emotionally, assuming she had hardened herself into ‘someone unfeeling

her. She feared the answer might reveal a lack of any

Nicole's eyes, landing on Roscoe's

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

a smile and took charge. "Turn around. Let me see to those

was faint. "There's no

Just turn around,” Nicole persisted, not willing to

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

to cause Roscoe to stiffen, a sign that such

Nicole finished with the bandage, Roscoe donned

is it me that you want?" The interplay of light and shadow in the room highlighted the clean lines of Roscoe's face, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere

barely above a whisper, carried an undeniable allure

The thought of easing

she ‘saw as a pointless pursuit

undeniable, potent even, and for

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

the ache spreading through her chest, pressed on. "Roscoe, I can be yours tonight, but

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

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 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. "Nicale..." The way

sliver of certainty amid the tension. Roscoe, in spite

dared not

gravity unto themselves, held her gaze, his breath

moment, was beyond Nicole's wildest scenarios. The Roscoe she knew, once easily flushed with

barely above a whisper, carried a weight. "Nicole, this is a game to you.

to exhaustion only

light crept across the horizon, Nicole's