The drive back to her villa felt longer than usual. The Phantom IX's headlights carved a silver path through the night, but inside, the atmosphere was heavy.
Su Ning gripped the wheel, her eyes flicking to the man in the passenger seat. His breathing was shallow, ragged, each rise and fall of his chest straining against the bloodstained fabric of his shirt. He looked carved from stone—jaw sharp, brows furrowed even in unconsciousness. A thin sheen of sweat glistened across his temples, his lips pale yet stubbornly pressed together.
'Who exactly are you? 'she wondered, a frown touching her lips. Even now, weakened and bleeding, his aura radiated an oppressive coldness. It was unlike anything she had ever felt—dangerous, unyielding, almost suffocating.
She pressed harder on the accelerator. The sooner she got him inside, the better.
—
Minutes later, the car pulled into the Fengshang Estate. She parked directly in front of her villa, her movements brisk and precise. Getting out, she rounded the car and opened the passenger side. His body was heavy, solid with muscle, yet Su Ning lifted him carefully, aided by her enhanced strength. His head lolled against her shoulder, the faint scent of gunpowder and iron clinging to him.
With a faint blur of movement, she employed her Shadow Ghost Step, carrying him swiftly inside. They appeared in one of the guest rooms in the blink of an eye. She laid him on the large bed, the sheets quickly staining red beneath him.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She had no training as a doctor, but she couldn't let him bleed out here.
Su Ning hurried to fetch a first-aid kit from the bathroom. Returning, she sat by the bed, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the buttons of his shirt.
Her breath hitched when she slid the blood-soaked fabric open.
A broad chest came into view, each muscle defined with sculpted perfection, hard ridges glistening faintly beneath the dim light. His abs were taut, every line pronounced, marked by a faint sheen of sweat. Across his arms and shoulders, tattoos coiled like black serpents—intricate, ruthless designs that seemed to declare danger without words.
Su Ning swallowed. Heat rushed unbidden to her cheeks. She had never been this close to a man, never had reason to touch one so intimately.
'Focus, Su Ning. This isn't the time.'
Her hands, though shaky, reached for the forceps. She leaned closer, her hair brushing his chest as she carefully located the lodged bullets. His skin radiated warmth—too much warmth. Her fingers trembled as they grazed against his flesh while she worked, the contact unintentional but startling.
The metallic clink of the first bullet hitting the tray echoed in the room.
She exhaled in relief, her chest rising and falling faster than usual. One down.
The second was deeper. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she maneuvered, biting her lower lip. Her small hands pressed firmly against his side as she steadied her tools. The faintest groan escaped his lips—a low, gravelly sound that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
Her heart skipped. She froze, staring at his face. His brows furrowed, but his eyes remained closed. Carefully, she pushed on.
When the second bullet finally slid free, her breath caught. Blood stained her hands, the metallic smell filling her senses. She worked quickly, cleaning and bandaging his wounds with practiced movements. Years of tending to her own injuries after beatings had given her some skill in wrapping wounds.
Still, tending to him was different.
Her gaze wandered for just a moment across his bare torso. The dangerous tattoos. The scars—some old, some new—etched into his skin like a story of violence and survival. And yet, beneath it all, there was an undeniable allure.
Her fingers brushed lightly against his ribs as she tied the final bandage. The touch was fleeting, accidental… but it felt charged, almost forbidden.
When she finished, she let out a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Done," she whispered, more to herself than him.
She reached for his discarded shirt, intending to put it back on him. Her small hands worked at slipping the sleeves around his broad shoulders, adjusting the fabric to cover his chest. She leaned forward, close enough that she could feel the steady beat of his heart against her palm.
And that was when it happened.
A sudden grip closed around her wrist—firm, unyielding, ice-cold.
Her eyes widened in shock as her body lost balance, collapsing against him. Her palms pressed into his chest, her face only inches away from his.
Her breath hitched.
His eyes were open.
Cold, ruthless, razor-sharp eyes stared directly into hers. They were like frozen steel, brimming with danger and unspoken authority. Even weakened, bleeding, and bandaged, his gaze cut through her like a blade.
Su Ning froze, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.
For a moment, neither moved. The air between them was thick, heavy with tension. She could feel the heat of his body beneath her, the iron grip on her wrist, the raw power he exuded even in weakness.
Her lips parted slightly, her breath brushing against his. It was a closeness that made her cheeks flush hot.
But his gaze was merciless, unreadable. "Who… are you?" His voice was low, gravelly, filled with suspicion.
Su Ning's throat tightened. "You were injured. I… saved you."
His eyes narrowed, the grip on her wrist tightening just enough to sting. "Why?"
She met his gaze despite the fear prickling down her spine. "Because leaving you to die would make me no different from those who tried to kill you."
A pause. His eyes searched hers, as though weighing her words. His breath was shallow, his body weakened, but the aura around him was suffocating—like standing before a predator who decided at any moment whether she was prey or not.
Unconsciously, her body leaned slightly closer, her hair falling across his cheek. The faintest brush of her lips hovered near his jawline. The contact was not deliberate, but the closeness was electric.
Su Ning felt her pulse quicken, her composure cracking. She forced herself to pull back slightly, trying to reclaim space. "You should rest. Your wounds need to heal."
But his eyes didn't soften. If anything, they grew colder, darker.
"You touched me," he said quietly, his tone laced with an edge of danger.
Her breath caught. Heat flared in her cheeks. "I—I had to treat your wounds!"
For a fleeting second, the corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but something that hinted at amusement beneath the ice. Then, just as quickly, it vanished.
His grip on her wrist loosened, though his gaze never left her face.
Su Ning slowly sat upright, placing his shirt properly over him before carefully pulling her hand free. Her pulse was still racing, her skin tingling where he had held her.
The silence stretched on.
Finally, his eyes fluttered shut again, exhaustion pulling him back under. His chest rose and fell steadily, the ruthless aura dimming with his fading consciousness.
Su Ning sat there for a long moment, staring at him. Her emotions were tangled—a mix of curiosity, unease, and something else she couldn't name.
This man was dangerous. Everything about him screamed power and violence. And yet, when he had looked at her, truly looked, she had felt something stir inside her chest.
With a quiet sigh, she adjusted the blanket over him, making sure his bandages stayed firm.
Then she turned off the light, the room falling into shadows.
Unbeknownst to her, the faintest curve lingered at the corner of his lips as he drifted back into unconsciousness.
The ruthless stranger was not one to let his guard down. But tonight, in her hands, he had.