Chapter 280

Nathan Blackwood would never forget that moment on the helicopter. His arms were wrapped tightly around Evelyn Sinclair's unconscious, bloodied form, refusing to let go. Silent tears streaked down his face, leaving glistening trails.

The helicopter was packed with Nathan's military comrades. Their shocked expressions spoke volumes as they witnessed this unprecedented display of emotion from their usually stoic leader.

Thankfully, Maxwell Carter, their unit's medic, was aboard. He administered emergency treatment before performing surgery aboard the cruise ship. Throughout the entire procedure, Nathan never left Evelyn's side.

His unblinking gaze remained fixed on her pale face, as if fearing she might vanish if he looked away. When Maxwell extracted the bullet, Nathan's tension was palpable.

Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. No one could tell whether it was rage or anguish contorting his features. When the surgery concluded, Maxwell shot him an exasperated look.

"That was the most stressful operation I've ever performed! Every incision I made, you glared like you wanted to skin me alive."

"Maybe I should return the favor," Nathan growled, his bloodshot eyes burning with intensity. Maxwell stormed out in frustration.

Had they not been close friends, their relationship might have ended right then. Donovan Sterling observed everything from the corner.

Nathan's actions left Donovan no choice but to reconsider his stance toward the man who'd saved his sister. He'd been competing with Lucas Sterling over who would care for Evelyn.

Using his numerical advantage, Nathan consistently barred Lucas from the room, provoking colorful curses from the younger Sterling brother.

Only Donovan didn't interfere with Nathan's vigil. He understood the depth of Nathan's feelings for Evelyn surpassed anyone's comprehension. Now Nathan stood alone on the deck, his expression unreadable.

In his hands trembled a photograph captured by a European street photographer. His grip was so tight his knuckles bleached white. The shocking image had been displayed in a café opposite an underground fight club.

Nathan's memory only recalled a woman's retreating figure leading him toward blinding light. That sunlight piercing the darkness had resurrected him. The photograph showed her face.

The crimson dress made her glow with regal brilliance.

Yet the darkness behind her engulfed his battered form. In the frame, Nathan appeared broken and bloodied while she stood resolute, each step radiating determination.

When Nathan first saw the image, his eyes widened in disbelief before flooding red. The contrast of her courage against his vulnerability was staggering.

"Did I truly know her? Is this really Evelyn?" His voice emerged rough, layered with disbelief and something deeper.

Donovan studied him sidelong, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Do you wish it was her, Mr. Blackwood?"

Nathan's mouth compressed into a thin line.

Countless questions tangled in his mind, forming an impenetrable knot. Why was she there? Why was she the one who carried me out? Why did she never speak of this?

The answers eluded him, but Nathan sensed their significance outweighed his very existence.