?Chapter 428:


    As Elena prepared to jump, Wesley abruptly seized her wrist.


    Turning, Elena met Wesley’s stern look. His expression was rigid, his eyes as cold as ice.


    Wesley took a deep breath, his jaw set firmly. “You use the stairs. I’ll handle the diversion.”


    He was frustrated. Did she not care for her own safety? She was ready to face the threat head-on.


    “There’s no need,” Elena said gently. “They want me. You don’t need to intervene—”


    “Go down the stairs,” Wesley cut in sharply.


    With that, he dove from the building.


    Gunshots followed his action.


    Elena wasted no time. Seizing the moment Wesley created, she dashed down the stairs, swung open the car door, and ignited the engine. She opened the passenger side.


    In an instant, Wesleynded in the vehicle.


    She mmed her foot on the elerator as bullets hammered against the car door, echoing with sharp, metallic ngs.


    Elena kept herposure, maneuvering the car swiftly from the scene. With the sun ring fiercely, blinding her momentarily, she could not afford to pause. The confined space of the car was heavy with thebined odors of sweat, gunpowder, and blood.


    “Did you get hurt?” Elena asked, steering the car over the crest of the hill and tucking it away in a concealed dip where it wouldn’t be easily spotted. As soon as the engine fell silent, the sharp, metallic scent of blood hit her—a heavy, lingering aroma.


    Wesley sat in a ck suit that concealed any visible wounds, making it hard to discern his injuries. He leaned back, his face ashen, squinting against the fading light.


    Without hesitation, Elena took charge, deftly unbuttoning his shirt. Buttons popped off like startled birds, revealing a sculpted chest unmarred by injury. “Come on, get up. I need to check your back,” she instructed, her voice a mix of urgency and concern.


    Slowly, Wesley opened his eyes, his gaze settling on her furrowed brow. “Hey, no need to panic. It’s not as bad as it looks,” he drawled, his tonezy and dismissive.


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    Elena’s frown deepened. He had gotten hurt while trying to protect her. In a swift motion, she hooked an arm around Wesley’s neck, pulling him toward her with surprising strength.


    Cradling his neck against her chest, she yanked off his shirt, exposing his back to the fading light.


    Wesley’s skin was as delicate as a butterfly’s wing, and therge crimson abrasion marring his back was a gruesome sight, stark against his pale flesh. Elena quickly deduced it was the result of a reckless slide down a cement wall. Thankfully, he had escaped gunfire.


    Always prepared, Elena retrieved a small box of ointment from her bag. “Hang tight, this might sting a bit,” she said softly.


    Dipping her slender finger into the green salve, she applied it gingerly to Wesley’s back.


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