?Chapter 711:


    “I’ve got a private doctor,” Rutherford said after a pause. “I’ll send him over. Don’t worry—your friend’s in good hands.”


    Relief washed over her. “Thank you, Mr. Schoenberg.”


    After the call, Sharon gave her a long look from the driver’s seat. “You don’t even like the guy, and now you’re asking him for favors? You’re racking up debts, Ste. How are you gonna pay him back?”


    Ste leaned back with a sigh. “I’ll deal with that when the timees.”


    “You’re really going all-in for a stranger?”


    Ste nced at the unconscious man stretched out in the backseat. “We’ve already brought him this far. Might as well see it through.”


    Besides, she had a hunch he knew something about the ident. Something important.


    Within the hour, they reached her apartmentplex. After parking in the underground garage, the two women wrestled the man out of the car and into the building.<fn5a44> For original chapters go to FιndNovel</fn5a44>


    Inside, thick curtains shut out the city lights. The air smelled of cleaning alcohol and faint medicinal powder—not exactly cozy, but it would do. Ste got to work.


    Fast, she cleaned his wounds as best as she could, holding her breath until the doctor arrived.


    When the doctor finally showed up and saw the extent of the injuries, he froze for a second.


    “Doctor, is it bad?” Ste asked, anxiety creeping into her voice.


    The doctor frowned. “Gunshot wound. First priority is getting the bullet out.”


    Ste’s eyes widened. Sharon looked equally stunned.


    No wonder the bleeding wouldn’t stop—he still had a bullet lodged inside him.


    For the next hour, the room was filled with tense silence and the asional clink of metal. The doctor worked meticulously, sweat dripping from his brow as he pulled the bullet out and closed the wound.


    When it was finally over, Ste let out a long breath. “You’ve been a lifesaver tonight, Doc. You want to crash here and head out in the morning?”


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    The doctor shook his head. “No need. As long as he doesn’t spike a fever, he’ll pull through.”


    Ste walked him out, then returned with a ss of warm water. She moved quietly, not wanting to disturb the heavy silence.


    On the bed, the many deathly still. His face was pale, eyes tightly shut. No telling when he’d wake up.


    Ste let out a yawn, and Sharon suggested, “Let’s get some rest. He’s probably not waking up tonight anyway.”


    The two of them headed back to the master bedroom, freshened up, and settled into bed.


    Since there was an unfamiliar man in the house, Sharon didn’t feelfortable leaving Ste alone, so she stayed the night.


    By morning, the man finally stirred, his eyes blinking open as his focus sharpened.


    He was now dressed in the new clothes Ste had arranged for him the night before—slightly tight-fitting, but they suited him and gave off a rugged charm.


    Seeing him step out, Ste asked gently, “Why are you up? Does your wound still hurt?”


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