Chapter 1090
“Since you’re already here, why not stay?” Andrew’s voice was icy.
A chilling smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he lunged forward, moving with ghostly speed.
The two assassins barely reached the second–floor window, desperately trying to break it open. Before their fists even made contact, Andrew’s brutal punches smashed into their backs.
The impact was deafening–like lightning striking hard and heavy. The windows shattered instantly, exploding outward as the two assassins flew through them. Just like that, their bodies crashed onto the lawn below, shards of glass mixing with blood and flesh.
They lay lifeless, eyes wide with terror, frozen forever in their final moments.
Andrew’s expression was terrifyingly cold. “Aspen, if you’re still alive, you can come out now, ” he called out softly, his voice echoing through the silent villa.
Silence answered him. It seemed he was alone, the villa devoid of any other living soul.
A rare sense of urgency surged through him, and Andrew bolted downstairs, intent on searching the garage and basement. Yet, just as he reached the staircase, he heard the faintest noise from an upstairs closet.
In mere seconds, Andrew stood before the closet door and yanked it open. Dresses and coats hung innocently, hiding nothing at first glance. However, his sharp gaze quickly found the floor–blood seeped slowly from beneath the hanging clothes.
He pushed them aside roughly, discovering Aspen curled up, barely conscious. Her face was ghostly pale, drenched in cold sweat, eyes flickering weakly. A vicious knife wound gaped in her chest, deep enough to pierce both skin and clothing.
“You… jerk,” Aspen breathed weakly, trembling with effort. “If you’d been a second later… you’d be finding my corpse.”
She collapsed into unconsciousness, and Andrew caught her swiftly, his voice steady and firm. “Relax, you won’t die on me.”
Carrying her gently to the adjacent bedroom, Andrew flicked on the lights, illuminating the full extent of her injuries. Cuts covered her hands, clearly from struggling bare–handed against knives.
“You’re one gutsy woman…” Andrew chuckled softly, admiration and worry mingling in his voice as he began tending to her wounds.
Half–conscious, Aspen weakly crossed her arms defensively, mumbling, “Don’t… Just take me
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+25 BONC
Chapter 1090
… to a hospital…”
“It’s late. The doctors won’t be available,” Andrew replied bluntly. “Besides, why bother when you have me?“”
Without hesitation, he tore open her bloodied blouse along the wound line. Beneath it, her bra was soaked in crimson, stubbornly difficult to unclasp.
Cursing under his breath about the complexity of women’s underwear, Andrew finally just ripped it apart. Immediately, her modest curves sprang free, smooth and pale beneath the harsh bedroom lights.
Nonetheless, Andrew’s focus remained purely clinical. He carefully cleaned the blood away and applied medicine, methodically bandaging the wound. Unfortunately, the wound’s placement –just inches below her chest–made avoiding contact impossible.
However, after finishing the bandages, he realized with a slight flush that the sensation had not exactly been unpleasant. Inwardly, he found himself involuntarily comparing Aspen to
Francesca.
Francesca was famously voluptuous, impossible to grasp fully in one hand, while Aspen’s modest figure was smaller yet perfectly firm and alluring.
Andrew caught himself quickly, dismissing those thoughts. Taking advantage of a helpless woman was beneath him.
After thoroughly treating Aspen’s injuries, Andrew gently carried her to the garage and placed her carefully into the back seat of his Ferrari. Then, he drove swiftly away from the compromised villa.
With assassins already aware of their location, staying would mean endless trouble. Andrew could handle himself effortlessly, but Aspen was vulnerable. Losing her would genuinely upset
him.
Parking in front of an upscale hotel, Andrew carried Aspen carefully from the car. Tossing the keys casually to the valet, he strode into the lobby.
“Andrew, is that you?”
A familiar, cold voice stopped him in his tracks. Andrew turned expressionlessly, meeting the gaze of Christina and her family.
Irene sneered harshly, “Andrew, you really are shameless! Aspen is from the Stevens family from Bridgefields–she’s practically family!” s
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