Elena looked at his face once again.
Helplessness washed over her, and against her better judgment, she dragged him along and took him to her house.
Halfway there, the man lost consciousness—
yet even in his unconscious state, his fingers refused to loosen their grip around Elena's hand.
Not long after they disappeared, a group of men arrived at the same spot.
"Damn it… he escaped this fast?" one of them hissed.
"With injuries that severe, he still managed to move."
Another clenched his jaw. "If we don't finish him now, he'll become a huge problem. We have strict orders—he must not leave this city alive."
Unaware of the danger closing in, Elena quietly brought the man into her room.
Supporting his heavy body with effort, she managed to lay him down—almost throwing him onto the bed in frustration.
He was still unconscious.
And still holding her hand.
Tightly.
So tightly that she couldn't pull free.
Elena stared at him, then her fingers brushed against the knife wound on her neck. The thought alone ignited her anger.
She leaned closer, her voice dripping with cold sarcasm.
"So tell me," she muttered, eyes sharp,
"did your heart not tremble even once while pressing a knife against the neck of such a beautiful girl?"
Her lips curved into a humorless smile.
"Or are you just that heartless?" Saying that, Elena sat down right beside him.
She stared at his unconscious face for a while, clearly thinking about something important—
or maybe something dangerous.
Then, a slow, mysterious smile curved her lips.
With her free hand, she reached into the drawer and pulled out a first-aid box, placing it on the bed.
"Since you already hurt me," she muttered calmly,
"and gifted me enough mental stress for a lifetime, checking your body and taking a little compensation shouldn't be a crime." Using only one hand, she treated his wounds, her fingers unintentionally touching him more than once.
Each time, she clicked her tongue."Solid," she remarked flatly.
"Looks like you invested more effort in training your body than your brain." "Tch. Annoying," she muttered.
"Built like someone who survives fights, yet here you are—half dead on my bed."
Her fingers moved across his shoulder again while freeing the last part of the shirt.
She rolled her eyes.
"Broad shoulders, decent build… what a waste," she said lazily.
"If only your decision-making skills matched your physique."
The blood-stained shirt finally came off.
Using just one hand, she treated his wounds.
Not gentle—
but not careless either.
After that, she applied ointment to her own injury, wincing slightly before rolling her eyes.
"Great," she sighed. "Stabbed at night, nurse duty included. What a perfect day."
Her gaze drifted back to his face.
She studied him for a second, then clicked her tongue. "Well… at least being handsome finally paid off for someone tonight."
With that, she lay down beside him on the bed, clearly done with heroism, sarcasm still lingering on her lips.
Soon, she fell asleep.
Morning came.
The man opened his eyes and realized he was in a different room.
His shirt was gone… and his hand was holding someone else's.
He turned his head.
Beside him slept a beautiful girl, around her late twenties.
Her face was simple and innocent, calm and peaceful, as if she belonged to a quiet world far away from danger.
He kept staring at her.
She had woken up the moment he moved, but kept her eyes closed on purpose.
After a few seconds, she spoke in a calm, cutting tone.
"So… are you planning to continue this free morning inspection,
or should I start charging?"
Then she opened her eyes slowly and looked straight at him.
"Because last I checked, staring this hard wasn't included in the rescue package."
She looked at him for a second, then sighed dramatically.
"Of course you're staring," she said dryly.
"I mean, waking up next to a beautiful, kind-hearted woman in her late twenties who saves strangers and offers free medical care—"
She tilted her head slightly, completely unimpressed.
"Honestly, it would be strange if you weren't fascinated."
He let out a quiet breath.
I must be crazy, he thought,
to ever think she was innocent. Hearing Elena, he said nothing.
He just looked at her for a second and thought—
Sarcasm really is a disease. He looked at Elena and finally spoke,
"Can I get a phone?"
Elena stared at him for a moment.
Seeing that he wasn't reacting to her sarcasm anymore, she sighed in defeat and handed him her phone.
But when he reached for it, she didn't let go.
Instead, she looked straight at him and said calmly,
"Just so you know—bringing you to my house, saving your life, applying medicine to your wounds, and babysitting you the entire night…"
She raised her other hand slightly, as if counting points.
"…none of this was charity."
Then she leaned back and added flatly,
"My house is not an asylum.
And definitely not an orphanage."
She went quiet.
The man blinked once, then nodded.
"Alright," he said seriously.
"Give me your bank account number. I'll transfer the money."
Without hesitation, Elena gave him the details.
Handing the phone back, she said dryly,
"Make the call quickly and leave."
Then, with a tired glance at the door, she added,
"My family will wake up any minute.
If they find out I brought a man into my room overnight, they'll probably get a heart attack."
The man nodded silently.
Elena stood up from the bed and walked past him toward the bathroom.
Moments later, the sound of running water filled the room.
Hearing it, he lowered his gaze.
Then he picked up the phone and dialed a number.
The call connected almost instantly.
"Brother?" a young, anxious voice came from the other side.
"Where are you? We've been trying to reach you since last night. Are you okay?"
He closed his eyes briefly.
"I'm fine," he replied calmly. He spoke again, sounding way too calm for someone ordering millions.
"Aaron, do two things for me," he said lazily.
"First, send a car to the address I'm giving you. I'll be coming out shortly."
His eyes drifted around the room as if choosing curtains, not giving commands.
"Second," he added after a pause,
"I'll send you a bank account number. Transfer two million."
The line went silent for a second.
"Two… million?" Aaron asked carefully.
"Whose account is that, brother?"
He sighed, clearly unimpressed.
"You seem to have a lot of free time these days," he said dryly.
"Asking questions like it's a hobby."
Aaron immediately panicked.
"N-no, brother. I was just talking," he rushed to explain.
"You know how I am."
"Unfortunately, yes," he replied flatly.
"I'll do both things right now," Aaron said quickly.
"Good," the man said, completely satisfied.
He ended the call without waiting for another word. As the call disconnected, Aaron let out a long breath.
Only after the silence returned did his tense shoulders finally relax.
He stood there for a moment
Then,he dialed another number.
This time, the call went to Daniel Sebastian—his father.
.....
Capital.
Aaron stepped out of his room and walked into the hall.
His father sat on the sofa, calmly reading the newspaper, his posture straight even in silence.
"Dad," Aaron said, stopping near him.
"Second brother is fine. I just spoke to him."
The middle-aged man lowered the newspaper slightly and nodded once—no questions, no panic.
That single gesture was enough.
Beside him sat a woman watching television.
The moment she heard Aaron, she turned toward him.
"So… he's alright?" she asked, relief flashing across her face.
"Thank God."
Then, with a faint sigh, she added,
"Tell him to call his mother when he gets the chance."
Her voice softened, carrying quiet emotion.
"God gave me four children," she murmured,
"yet not one of them wants to spend time with their mother."
She was Aria Joseph Sebastian—
a graceful, dignified woman from a prestigious family, her elegance shaped by both discipline and warmth.
Daniel Sebastian finally spoke, his tone steady and authoritative.
"Tell him to call once he reaches the Capital," he said calmly.
Aaron nodded.
"Yes, Dad."
Daniel Sebastian—
an army Major, a man who commanded not just respect but an entire team trained under his leadership.
His wife, Aria, matched him in presence—
refined, composed, and respected in her own right.
Together, they were the pillars of the Sebastian family.
"Okay, Dad," Aaron said simply.
With that, he turned around and walked back to his room.