Chapter 909
The moment they brushed past a man in a server’s uniform, Julliard’s expression sharpened. He shoved Sharon aside with sudden force.
“Sharon, watch out!”
A flash of cold steel sliced through the air, grazing his hand.
The man in the server’s uniform realized his strike had missed. He lunged again, knife angled straight at Sharon’s chest.
Julliard’s reflexes were razor-sharp. He kicked out, sending the attacker sprawling across the marble floor. The man scrambled to rise, but the opportunity had already slipped through his fingers. Without hesitation, he abandoned the fight and bolted.
Julliard didn’t pursue. He feared it might be a ploy to draw him away.
Wendy and Sharon, both pale with shock, turned to inspect his bleeding arm.
“Julliard, you’re hurt. We need to get you to a hospital, now.”
His eyes flickered with calculation.
“Not yet. If they have people planted in the hospital, I might not be able to protect you and Sharon in my current condition.”
Wendy darted nervous glances around the lobby, bracing for another assailant to appear at any moment. “Should we call Xavier’s men to move in closer?”
Julliard shook his head.
“They’re safer in the shadows. Their presence keeps enemies from acting rashly. But if they step forward, and someone tries to ram us with a car, we’d have no time to react.”
Wendy bit her lip, flustered. “Then… should we at least go upstairs?”
He shook his head again, voice steady despite the blood soaking his sleeve.
“If a killer can disguise himself as hotel staff, it means this place has already been
compromised. For all we know, there could be assassins waiting in your room right now.”
Wendy’s composure unraveled.
“Then what… what do we do?”
Julliard’s gaze settled on Sharon.
“We go to my place. With my security system, infiltration is impossible.”
1/4
Chotas Bou
+15 Bonus
Her eyes lingered on the blood spreading across his white shirt. At last, she nodded.
“Alright.”
A fleeting curve touched the corner of his lips, gone almost before it appeared.
They drove straight to Julliard’s villa.
Spacious and spotless, it glowed warmly with light, free of the gloom or emptiness large houses often carried. The family doctor was already waiting when they arrived, alongside Julliard’s assistant.
The doctor cleaned and dressed the wound with meticulous care.
“The cut isn’t large, but it’s deep. Avoid water, and absolutely no strenuous activity, or the stitches could tear and infection set in.”
Julliard turned to his assistant. “Go back to the hotel. Bring Sharon and Wendy’s luggage here.
“Yes, Sir.” The assistant hesitated, then added, “One more thing-the company has an urgent document that requires your signature.”
“Gi
pen already in hand, but the doctor raised a hand to stop him.
pallor, the doctor frowned.
. Macaron, you’ve been working past midnight every day. Your diet and schedule are a disaster. Your body can’t take this much longer. You’re injured-work can wait.”
“But this document is important,” the assistant pressed.
The doctor turned instead to Sharon. “Sharon, perhaps you can persuade him.”
Caught off guard, Sharon hesitated. Julliard’s affairs were hardly her place to intervene. Yet remembering he was wounded se of her, she forced herself to speak.
“Julliard… mavh
healing first. Let work rest for now?”
even a polite dismissal.
esitate as he said, “Alright. I’ll do as you say.”
s
