Chapter 118

To Damon, that was anything but “a little.”

However, he couldn’t exactly scold Noelle for eating so much, not after how much blood she had lost. She needed to refill her energy, or she would probably pass out.

Noelle assumed he was just upset about his wallet, but Damon didn’t even look at it. His eyes stayed locked on her as he fired off questions. “How’s your injury? What happened to the assassins? Are they gone?”

Noelle blinked at the sudden interrogation.

After a beat, she answered, “I’m fine now. And the assassins—I already…”

She didn’t even get to finish before Damon tensed up. “Fine? Who are you trying to fool? You were bleeding all over the place just now!”

Sure, the underground parking lot had been dark, but the thick smell of blood and the way it had soaked into his hands was proof enough. There was no way she was just fine.

“Take off your shirt. Let me see.” His voice was firm, almost demanding.

“Huh?” Noelle pulled back slightly, eyeing him warily. “Damon, that’s not really appropriate, is it! Nick told me not to [clothes off in front of] other men. If he finds out, he won’t be happy.”

Damon didn’t even hesitate. “Cut the crap. Take it off.”

He reached over, quickly unbuttoning her shirt. But the second her shoulder was exposed, he froze.

The wound was still wrapped in thick gauze, but she had clearly handled it with zero care. Blood had seeped through the bandages, staining her skin, and it was obvious she had just wiped at it half-heartedly.

Damon’s fingers twitched. He took a slow breath, trying to steady himself, but his voice still came out rough. “Noelle…your injury…”

He clenched his fists, cursing under his breath. Just seeing how much blood she had lost made something tighten in his chest.

Noelle was seriously injured, yet here she was, stuffing her face with fried chicken instead of lying in a hospital bed.

Damon felt his chest tighten. Is she out of her mind? Even if she doesn’t care about herself, she should at least have some basic sense?

Frustration. Anger. Worry. But more than anything, guilt, because he knew this was all his fault.

The assassin had said it himself. Noelle was fast, skilled. She could dodge bullets.

She hadn’t been shot by accident. She had been shot because she chose to take the bullet for him.

Is she crazy for a brother who once threatened to kill her! Who now wants nothing to do with her? She’s still thrown herself in front of a gun for me. If the bullet had been just a little off, she could’ve… The thought made him sick.

Meanwhile, Noelle, completely unaware of the storm raging in his head, waved a hand off. “Relax, Damon. The bleeding—"

She noticed Damon’s face had gone pale, his eyes flickering with emotions she couldn’t quite read.

But she didn’t need to. All that mattered was that he hadn’t pushed her away. He was here, worrying about her, making sure she was okay.

And that alone was enough to make her heart soar.

“Stopped, my ass!” Damon snapped, his patience snapping right along with it. “Do you think this is a paper cut? The bullet is still inside you! Do you want to die?”

Damon took a deep breath, slowing down the whirlwind of emotions crashing inside him. Right now, getting Noelle to the hospital was the only thing that mattered. This wasn’t just some minor wound; she could end up with lasting damage.

“That’s it, all she cares about is food.” Frustrated, he reached for her, ready to shove her into the passenger seat and drive straight to the nearest hospital.

However, Noelle grabbed his wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “Damon, I’m not going to the hospital.”

Damon’s jaw clenched. “Oh, so you wanna die? And then what? Blame me from the afterlife? Well, guess what? Not happening! You’re going, whether you like it or not.”

Damon wasn’t listening at all. He was dead set on dragging Noelle to the hospital, no matter what she said.

Noelle let out a sigh. This was a problem.

She couldn’t go to the hospital, not with how different her body was. If they ran any tests, they would find things they weren’t supposed to, and then… well, things would get messy. Very messy.

However, Damon was stubborn as hell. Once he made up his mind, nothing short of a miracle could change it.

She had no choice. With a resigned look, Noelle unwrapped the gauze on her shoulder and showed him the wound. The bleeding had completely stopped, and a fresh scab had already started forming. “Look, I’m healing. No need to go to the hospital.”

Damon opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the second he saw the injury, he froze. “What the hell?”

The bullet wound, which should have been raw and bleeding, was already closing up.

“How is this even possible?” he muttered, staring like he had just seen a ghost.

“Told you, no hospital,” Noelle said, quickly pulling her shirt back up.

Nick had always told her not to let anyone see too much of her body. Now she had gone and broken that rule. She could only hope he wouldn’t freak out about it.

Damon’s shock quickly turned into something else. Suspicion. His eyes narrowed, scanning her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

“You got the bullet out too!” he asked.

“Yep, it’s out,” Noelle nodded.

Damon pried again, “How?”

Noelle lifted two fingers and wiggled them in front of him with a smirk. “Dug it out myself.”

Damon inhaled sharply. If anyone else had said that, he would’ve laughed in their face.

However, this was Noelle, and for some reason, he actually believed her. Digging out a bullet with her bare hands… of course she did.

He stayed quiet for a moment, his expression darkening. Then, with a serious look, he asked, “Noelle… what the hell are you?”

As soon as these words were spoken, her eyes flickered. Noelle could see it; Damon wasn’t just curious. He needed an answer.

Noelle blinked once, twice, then finally, she said—