Time crawled by, each second stretching endlessly.
At some point, Camilla passed out from the excruciating pain.
Sinclair's pupils constricted violently, his breath hitching as if his lungs had frozen.
Only when he confirmed she was still breathing did the tension in his eyes ease slightly.
Gently, he laid her down before stepping outside.
The sunlight outside was bright, yet it couldn't pierce the suffocating gloom that clung to him like a second skin.
Luke and Ramsey, waiting by the door, were stunned by the sight of their boss drenched in blood.
"Mr. Luther, what happened to you?"
"I'll call a doctor right now—you need treatment."
"No doctors,"
Sinclair's voice was hoarse, his eyes dark with a dangerous crimson hue as he swept a chilling gaze over them.
"Bring Iris here."
The words dripped with icy malice, sharp enough to send a shudder down their spines.
