Chapter 1736
"Boss Be, we should swing by our safe house first. I''ll have someone dress your wounds there."
"No need, just hit the hotel. I''ve got a first aid kit on me." Arabe was prepared; she always carried an
emergency medical kit whenever she went out.
"Okay, then let me at least stop the bleeding for now." Horace fished through the car and found some
gauze, efficiently wrapping it around Arabe''s bleeding arm to stop the flow.
Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDra/ma.O(r)g!
They were often on assignments, so the car was usually stocked with medical supplies. But this time,
they were down to nothing but bandages—the medicine had all been used up.
"Just bear with me, we''ll have you patched up in no time." After applying severalyers of gauze,
Horace make sure it was fastened securely. Throughout the process, Arabe remained silent and
stoic, though herplexion was noticeably pale and weary.
"Boss." Horace couldn''t help but feel a pang of sympathy seeing her like this—and it was well past 2:00
a.m..
Arabe must be exhausted, and likely famished.
"Hand over your jacket."
When Arabe said this, Horace assumed she was chilly and quickly took his off, helping her put it on
with care.
But a momentter, something dawned on him, and he eximed in shock, "Boss Be, are you
covering up your wound so that Romeo won''t see it and worry."
Arabe gave him a look that said: “If you’ve figured it out, why ask?”
Horace zipped his lips, swallowing hard, and at the same time, he couldn''t believe that—Boss had
changed.
She actually showed a vulnerability now!
Pulling up at the hotel entrance, Arabe gave her orders, "Take some trusted guys and head back to
the states. From now on, you’re my right-hand man. I''ll head back with Romeo tonight or tomorrow.
Head over to Jack''s and wait for me."
Horace considered asking if he could join them on their private jet, but then thought better of it—he
didn’t want to be the third wheel.
"Boss Be, make sure you get that wound seen to as soon as you’re up there. Don''t wait." he urged
instead.
"Sure." Arabe confirmed and headed into the hotel.
Horace stayed until he saw her step into the elevator before driving off.
With Romeo upstairs, Be would be in safe hands.
Reassured, he could feel a weight lift from his shoulders.
Upon reaching her floor, Arabe found the presidential suite''s door slightly open. Inside was chaos—a
clear aftermath of turmoil, as if a storm had passed through.
The hotel manager and several executives were awkwardly gathered near the sofa, incessantly bowing
to Romeo and apologizing, "We''re terribly sorry, Mr. McMillian. This incident was apse in our security.
Please ept our deepest apologies."
Noticing Arabe, Romeo dismissed them and rushed to her side, "Are you hurt?"
She gave a slight shake of her head and questioned, "What happened?"
"Some thugs forced their way in here," Romeo replied in a low voice.
Seeing her paleness, he quickly fetched her a ss of water and urged her to drink, his eyes filled with
displeasure as he nced at the inept hotel staff. "Why are you still there?" he growled.
The staff bowed again, expressing their gratitude for Romeo’s understanding, then hastened to
straighten up the furniture.
But it was clear—the coffee table split into pieces, the windows and doors damaged, and bloodstains
on both the bed and carpet.
This suite was beyond staying in.
"The suite next door is all set. The door is open, and I''ll arrange somete-night delicacies to be
delivered."
Before the manager could finish his words, Romeo shot him a stern nce that immediately cut him
off. Knowing to exit swiftly, the man bowed out.
An attempt on Romeo''s life in their hotel.
If the word got out, how would the hotel ever attract the high society?
With such a security failure, who among the elite would trust a stay there?