Felicia focused intently as she treated her wounds. When it came time to remove the bullet, she took a deep breath, bit down on a piece of disinfectant cotton, and steeled herself, using tweezers to extract it. Her face paled as sweat broke out, but she remained silent.

Unbeknownst to her, Stephan observed her every move through the reflection in the glass. He watched, relaxed but curious, waiting for her to cry out in pain. He intended to dismiss her if she did. Instead, she remained remarkably composed, her shoulders trembling slightly. This was unexpected.

Soon, Felicia bandaged her leg. The combination of relaxation and blood loss caused her to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. An hour and a half later, the helicopter landed at the Russell estate.

Felicia awoke to the opulent surroundings. She had been here earlier, never imagining a return under these circumstances. Wincing, she stood to leave the helicopter, unaware that Stephan was also rising. He reached the door in two strides. She stepped aside to avoid rushing past him, but forgot her injured leg. She stumbled, falling into him. To onlookers, it appeared she had thrown herself into his arms.

Felicia's heart pounded as she instinctively recoiled, but Stephan tightened his grip, pinning her against the cabin wall. His imposing height intensified the confined space's intimacy. A tense energy filled the air, but Felicia only felt danger.

Stephan's sharp fingers traced the delicate curve of her neck, then lightly pressed against the gash on her arm, causing blood to well up. Felicia stifled a groan, her face paling.

Releasing her, Stephan wiped his hands with a cloth. His words were chillingly direct: "There won't be a next time. Understand? Clinging to me, or claiming to be mine, is asking for trouble."

His eyes narrowed, the murderous intent fading as he turned to leave. His subordinate followed, asking, "Mr. Russell, she knows too much. Are we simply letting her go?"

Stephan shot him a glance and replied slowly, "I'm a good person. I don't kill anyone."

The subordinate was speechless. Stephan might want to wipe the blood from his hands before making such claims.

Felicia leaned against the cabin wall, gasping for breath. Stephan had saved her from the criminals, and she had briefly entertained the notion that his bloodthirsty reputation might be undeserved. She was wrong. He was as unpredictable, if not more so, than rumored—an emotionally unstable, mercurial figure. One minute charming, the next capable of murder.

With a heavy sigh, Felicia limped from the helicopter. After leaving the estate, she hailed a cab after some time. She wondered about the Fuller family's reaction to her disappearance.