It was only thanks to Stephan's quick reflexes and unmatched strength that the worst was avoided. Catching Felicia mid-fall, he planted a powerful lock on Frank's chest, using the momentum to roll them both to safety. They landed away from the edge, unharmed.

Frank, however, was not so lucky. Dragged by gravity and unable to regain his balance, he plunged into the grinding machine below. The horrific sound of metal tearing through flesh marked his end—there wasn't even time for him to scream.

"Let's get out of here," Mike said, shielding Sandra's eyes. He didn't want her to see.

Mike left questions about Frank's accomplices or the orchestration of the kidnapping to his men. His team had arrived and secured the area, ensuring no loose ends remained.

Sandra still hadn't woken up. Her face was flushed, and her hair soaked with sweat. Felicia checked her pulse and exhaled in relief. "She was given a mild sedative. It's not a heavy dose, but she's running a low-grade fever from the shock. Give her some medicine, and she'll be fine. Nothing else to worry about."

Mike's tension eased. He turned his gaze to the subdued attackers, his expression darkening, his anger sharpening.

"Thank you, Felicia," Mike said earnestly. "You saved my daughter. You saved us both, really. If you're willing, I'd like Sandra to officially call you her godmother. She'll owe you a lifetime of gratitude." He paused. "And, of course, there's Stephan. But he's already her godfather, so there's not much more to say on that front."

The suggestion caught Felicia off guard. She glanced at Stephan, who had retreated to the car, his demeanor as distant and cold as ever. "Typical," she thought.

Felicia politely declined. "It's late, and Sandra still has a fever. You should get her home and let her rest."

Mike nodded. "Alright, I'll take her back. You can ride with Stephan. He'll take you home."

Before Felicia could protest, Mike disappeared with his daughter, leaving no room for argument. He had obviously noticed the unspoken tension between her and Stephan and deliberately created an opportunity for them.

Felicia sighed, rolling her eyes. Mike paused at the door and added, "By the way, Felicia, Stephan might have gotten hurt saving you. I don't think it's minor..."

Felicia froze. She recalled the pain in her own back, despite Stephan taking the brunt of the impact. How bad must his injuries be?

All hesitation vanished. She rushed to Stephan's car, yanked the door open, climbed inside, and shut it.

Stephan, seated in the back, glanced at her. His expression was impassive, but his eyes held their usual frosty indifference. He said nothing. The driver subtly adjusted the rearview mirror before starting the car.

The spacious back seat held a heavy, awkward silence. Felicia shifted, her gaze landing on Stephan. His posture struck her as odd. Normally, he lounged lazily, but now his body leaned to one side, stiff and deliberate. Then, she caught a faint metallic scent—blood.

Her stomach dropped. Felicia reached out and touched his back. Her fingers brushed against something wet and sticky. She drew her hand back; her fingertips were coated in blood. The black shirt masked everything, but the wound beneath was clearly bleeding.

"You're hurt," she said, her voice sharp with concern. "Let me see."