Brother Biao's face twisted with rage. He drew a sharp knife and lunged at Nathaniel Fu.
Nathaniel didn't flinch. With lightning speed, he caught Brother Biao's wrist mid-air, his voice low and menacing."Did you strike her with this hand?"
Before Brother Biao could respond—crack!Nathaniel snapped his wrist cleanly.
The knife clattered to the ground as Brother Biao let out a bloodcurdling scream.
The other thugs immediately charged, weapons raised.
Celia's heart raced. They were all armed, while Nathaniel fought barehanded. But his movements were swift, precise, and merciless. Within moments, he had knocked them to the floor one after another.
She had seen him fight once before in a bar, but watching him now—unleashed, dangerous, unstoppable—still made her pulse quicken. She was so focused on him that she didn't notice Brother Biao staggering back to his feet.
Despite his broken wrist, he grabbed the knife with his left hand and rushed toward her, stabbing straight at her abdomen.
"Celia, watch out!"
At the last possible moment, Nathaniel pulled her into his arms.
She heard the sickening sound of steel piercing flesh.
Her eyes widened. Blood seeped from Nathaniel's side where the blade had sunk deep into his abdomen.
"Nathaniel, you're hurt!"
He held her tightly with one arm, then drove his boot into Brother Biao's chest, sending him crashing to the ground. The remaining thugs were already sprawled unconscious.
"Let's go," Nathaniel said through gritted teeth, leading her away.
They left the chaos behind, but the suburbs were desolate, far from the city. Nathaniel's blood loss was worsening—he needed urgent care.
Celia managed to bring him into a small private house. She asked for a medicine box, but when it arrived, it contained nothing to stop the bleeding.
Her hand trembled slightly as she pulled out a sachet she always carried. Inside was a rare herb—the Love Flower.
It could stop the bleeding. But it also carried a dangerous side effect: it stirred the blood and ignited uncontrollable desire.
She looked up. Sweat beaded Nathaniel's pale forehead, his breathing ragged."Nathaniel… this flower can heal you, but it also…" She hesitated.
He understood at once. The corners of his lips curled faintly despite the pain."It's your choice. But if you use it—be prepared to take responsibility for me."
His words struck deep. He had returned for her, even taken a blade meant for her. Why?
She hesitated only a moment longer. But when Nathaniel pressed a bloodied hand against his wound and let out a muffled groan, her heart clenched.
"Nathaniel!"
His gaze locked on hers, steady even through the pain. "Have you decided?"
She couldn't let him die.
Biting her lip, Celia finally lifted the Love Flower to his lips. "Take it. Quickly."
His eyes darkened, glowing with an unreadable intensity as he stared at her. Then, slowly, he opened his mouth and swallowed it.
Almost immediately, the bleeding slowed. Relief swept over her, but the wound still needed tending.
"Take off your shirt," Celia said firmly.
Nathaniel leaned weakly against the bed, his breath uneven. "I don't have the strength. You'll have to help me."
He caught her delicate hand and placed it against the buttons of his shirt.
There was no time for modesty. Swallowing her nerves, Celia began unfastening his shirt, one button at a time.
When the last button slipped free, his shirt fell open, revealing his broad, muscular chest, tense with pain yet radiating an undeniable strength.
Celia's breath caught, but she forced herself to focus. This wasn't the time for distraction. He needed her.
Yet as she leaned closer, she noticed something unsettling.
Nathaniel's breathing was no longer just strained from blood loss—it had grown heavier, warmer, almost scorching against her skin. A faint heat radiated from his body, his dark eyes glinting with something far more dangerous than pain.
The Love Flower was beginning to take effect.