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.

Nicole felt a constriction around her heart, and a peculiar sensation pricked

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

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

eyes, landing

a hushed tone, she whispered, "It's not worth it, Roscoe..." Roscoe's composure faltered. The once skilled surgeon was momentarily at a loss, his hands fumbling as

and took charge.

was faint. "There's no need

Nicole persisted, not willing to

She meticulously cleaned the lacerations with iodine,

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

bandage, Roscoe donned

the silence. "Roscoe, 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 between

an undeniable allure as she leaned

you desire?" oo Nicole couldn't bring herself to accept his sacrifice and selflessness. The thought of easing her conscience through such an exchange

him from what she ‘saw as a

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

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

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

of youth from Roscoe's features. He regarded her with a

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 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 he uttered her name was undeniably charged, a daring move in their

of certainty amid the tension. Roscoe, in spite of his ire, would not hurt her.

dared not reveal her

eyes, a gravity unto themselves, held her gaze, his breath mingling with

Roscoe she knew, once easily flushed with embarrassment, had matured. His proximity sent a flutter through her lashes, a reflex she

voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight.

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

light crept across the horizon,