It's Nothing Serious

"Mr. Blackwood! Sir, are you alright?" Alexander's assistant saw his pale complexion and rushed over, his face etched with deep worry.

Alexander grimaced, moving his arm stiffly. "It's fine. Just a scrape from a rock. It's a little sore."

The assistant's expression turned grave as he examined the injury more closely.

"This could be a hairline fracture," he said, his voice laced with concern. "We must get you to a hospital right away."

Alexander dismissed the idea with a sharp shake of his head. "It's a minor injury. We have pressing business. There's no time for hospitals."

He glanced down at his arm, feeling a persistent throb. He'd endured much worse. "Just have someone bandage it. Resolving the situation with Evelyn is our priority."

He gave a slight nod, a silent command for his man to push the wheelchair.

This charade of being disabled was a heavy burden. If he weren't pretending, he could have protected Evelyn more effectively.

He silently promised himself that one day he would stand before her, strong and whole.

The assistant hesitated, wanting to protest, but the cold look in Alexander's eyes stopped him.

"Understood, sir," the assistant replied.

Having witnessed Alexander's ruthless rise to power, he and the rest of the team knew his determination was absolute.

Their concern was obvious, but their attempts to persuade him were always futile.

At that moment, the assistant thought of Evelyn.

She might be the only person who could influence Mr. Blackwood.

Unfortunately, Evelyn wasn't here to plead his case.

He shook his head helplessly and let out a heavy sigh.

Soon, Alexander and his assistant reached the car.

The assistant retrieved a first-aid kit from the vehicle and took out a bandage.

Once inside the car, Alexander calmly removed his jacket and began expertly wrapping his own arm.

It was only when Alexander took off his shirt that the assistant saw the full extent of the injuries on his back—wounds of various sizes, all sustained while protecting Evelyn.

The sight of these severe marks left the assistant speechless.

The violence of those deranged attackers was shocking. Weren't they afraid of the law?

"Mr. Blackwood, those people went too far. It's a good thing you were there to shield Mrs. Blackwood. The thought of her being hurt is unbearable..."

The assistant's words echoed Alexander's own fears.

If he hadn't been with Evelyn, she could have been seriously injured.

A flash of anger crossed Alexander's eyes; he vowed internally to make the attackers pay.

Nevertheless, his voice was controlled when he spoke. "Those weren't ordinary fans. How else would they have found us?"

He narrowed his eyes, a cold sneer forming on his lips. "It appears we have a leak."

The assistant reacted with shock. "A leak? I'll investigate this immediately, sir."

Alexander gave a curt nod. "Let's go. We need to deal with Julian Thorne, the designer accusing Evelyn of plagiarism."

"Yes, Mr. Blackwood."