?Chapter 308:


    Elena’s eyebrow quirked up involuntarily.


    Anything she wanted?


    She wondered if he realized how dangerous such an offer could be. After a moment’s hesitation, she firmly declined. “I should probably get going.”


    Wesley’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together slowly.


    A sharp ringtone cut through the moment — Jeffry was calling Elena. As she reached to answer, Wesley made a sudden move, seizing the phone from her grasp.


    Narrowing her eyes, Elena reached out with an impatient huff. “Give me my phone back.”


    “Don’t decide now. Think about it for three days,” Wesley stated, a hint of desperation in his tone.


    Elena shook her head slightly; three days would not sway her resolve. No one had ever managed to coerce her into anything against her will.


    Elena’s gaze grew frosty, her mouth set in a firm, unyielding line.


    With a fluid twist of her wrist and a sharp knee thrust against his waist, she effortlessly pinned Wesley beneath her to snatch her phone back.


    A pained grunt escaped him as he struggled to contain a groan, hisplexion turning ashen.


    Pausing, Elena looked down, her eyes narrowing.


    A grimace flickered across his face, his posture tense, while the faint scent of blood clung to the air.


    Concern flickered across her features. Was he hurt?


    Without hesitation, she released her grip and swiftly lifted his shirt, revealing a swath of bandages wrapped around his waist, the fabric marred with dark, crimson stains.


    Elena’s lips pressed into a grim line. “What happened here?” she demanded, her voice a mix of worry and frustration.


    Unflinchingly, Wesley met her gaze. “Gunshot wound,” he replied.


    Silence enveloped them for a moment, the gravity of his recklessness hanging heavily in the air.


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    Elena’s voice cut through the silence, icy and sharp. “Do you have a first-aid kit in the car?”


    He nodded weakly, gesturing toward the driver’s seat.


    Retrieving the kit, Elena set to work with practiced hands, her movements precise and careful as she changed his bandages.


    She scolded him lightly, though her concern was palpable. “That’s a deep wound. If you keep running around, you’ll make it worse — unless you’re aiming for an early death, then don’t mind me.”


    Wesley reclined on the plush leather seat, his gaze fixed on her as she tended to him.


    It was the second time she hade to his aid.


    Confined in the tight quarters of the car, Elena had to lean close to inspect the wound properly.


    As she moved, her clothing shifted, inadvertently revealing the graceful curve of her waist — smooth and strikingly defined.


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