Love Unbreakable

Chapter 452 The nearly frantic speed of the motorcycle, resembling a hurricane, caused the man's shirt to billow.

Then, to the astonishment of onlookers, the motorcycle took off. It ascended into the air. From one side of the lake to the other, it landed gracefully on the grass before speeding away.

The pursuing bodyguards remained undeterred. They assumed accelerating would do the same magic.

After revving their engines in preparation, the lead motorcycle rider endeavored forward. The motorcycle ascended into the sky, only to suddenly descend. The bodyguard and the motorcycle collided forcefully with the water.

Soon, the turbulent splashes quieted, and it appeared as though both the motorcycle and its rider had vanished beneath the lake's surface.

The other three motorcycle riders refrained from attempting such feats any longer. They neglected to search

for their fallen comrade, opting instead to turn their heads and look for a path to the opposite shore.

On the opposite side, the black motorcycle accelerated from a narrow path onto a main road.

After approximately thirty minutes of travel, the journey came to a halt beside a quaint villa, its walls adorned with climbing roses.

The man steadied himself by placing a foot on the ground and instructed, "Hold on me tightly." Before Nicole could fully collect her thoughts, he effortlessly lifted her from the motorcycle. Her body still hadn't regained its composure from the previous whirlwind.

As she was being transported, her senses began to awaken.

Just as she was about to speak, instead of placing her on the ground, the man positioned her sideways on the motorcycle.

Nicole used her hands to steady herself on the seat.

The man carefully removed her helmet, hanging it on the handlebar, before attending to his own.

Before Nicole stood a handsome face, nearly flawless in its ‘composition.

"Roscoe..." Though Nicole had recognized the man as Roscoe, she remained fraught with uncertainties, unknowingly reverting to her previous manner of addressing him.

Roscoe's lips curved into a faint smile, his countenance exuding a luminous, moonlit glow, resplendent and captivating. "Thankfully, | managed to catch up," he remarked.

"How did you know where to find me?" Nicole understood she shouldn't harbor suspicions toward Roscoe, yet it hardly seemed coincidental for him to appear there.

"I sought you out at the villa," Roscoe openly confessed, devoid of any need for secrecy.

Nicole, now taken aback, questioned, "You sought me out?"

"Yes," Roscoe replied.

The dappled light and shadows played across Roscoe's youthful features, as though enveloped in a gentle glow.

Ever since that fateful night when Nicole failed to appear, Roscoe had tirelessly searched for her. After countless inquiries, he eventually uncovered the truth. Nicole had been held captive by Jarrod in one of his villas.

Upon witnessing Nicole emerge from Jarrod's villa, liberated and unrestrained, Roscoe quietly departed, his heart heavy with sadness. Aware of Nicole's pressing obligations, he endeavored not to intrude upon her.

During his leisure hours, Roscoe made a habit of checking the vicinity of the villa to ensure her safety. Today's events felt remarkably coincidental as if he had harbored a premonition in his heart, his thoughts persistently drawn to her. Thankfully, his arrival proved timely.

"It's getting chilly. Let's head inside," Roscoe suggested.

Roscoe instinctively reached out to embrace Nicole,

eliciting a skipped beat in Nicole's heart. She promptly took a step back, uttering, "Let's proceed." Roscoe's hand briefly tensed before he slowly withdrew it.

The door boasted an antiquated lock, requiring a key for entry.

Roscoe retrieved the key from beneath the third brick in the corner of the wall and unlocked the door.

Inside, the ambiance resonated with the charm of a traditional, vintage home, complete with a courtyard adorned with ginkgo trees and a serene pond.

This was the cherished residence where Nicole's grandparents once resided.

Regrettably, Nicole's grandparents passed away early, and Jarrod remained unaware of the significance of this place.

Later, following a family crisis, Wesson sold this property.

Unbeknownst to them, it was Roscoe who purchased it. At that time, Roscoe, in his early twenties, relied on part-time jobs and scholarships to amass sufficient funds. This was the "old place to which Roscoe referred.

As Roscoe illuminated the courtyard, everything within appeared well-maintained.

Roscoe initially tended to Nicole's wound, caused by the bottle cap. As the injury was on her arm, Nicole removed her jacket, exposing the short-sleeved shirt she wore beneath.

Roscoe examined it and, fortunately, found the clothing to be durable, with the wound not too severe. He then applied disinfectant before carefully bandaging it with gauze.

"I need to take a shower," Nicole said. She was thoroughly coated in dirt from head to toe.

Despite the impact of the fall from the motorcycle, her specially crafted leather jacket mitigated the severity of her injuries, sparing her from anything too serious.

Apart from experiencing mild numbness all over and nursing a wound on her arm, Nicole was fortunate to have escaped any significant injuries.

"Alright, just be cautious not to wet your arm," Roscoe

cautioned in response.

Nicole ascended the stairs.

In this modest villa, her grandparents’ bedrooms were located downstairs, with two bedrooms reserved upstairs for the convenience of Wesson, Dora, and a young Nicole.

As Nicole stepped back into the room that once held the memories of her childhood, she found herself overwhelmed with conflicting emotions.

The room had been meticulously maintained, and as she opened the wardrobe, she was taken aback by what she found. The wardrobe overflowed with garments, each pristine with its tags still attached.

The wooden door emitted a faint creak as it swung open.

Nicole shifted her gaze and spotted Roscoe reclining against the door frame, his hand casually tucked into his pocket. His towering frame and elongated legs commanded attention.

Upon registering her astonishment, a subtle blush graced

Roscoe's handsome features as he explained, "During my business travels, whenever | encountered something fitting for you, | made the purchase." Over time, the wardrobe reached its capacity, brimming with an abundance of garments.

Nicole perused the garments, each bearing the emblem of luxury brands, ranging in value from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands.

Roscoe, in contrast, was not inclined toward donning designer apparel. His typical attire comprised suits and shirts sourced from a select niche brand, their prices spanning from a few thousand to tens of thousands. He was fully aware that she wouldn't wear those garments, yet he remained steadfast in his decision to purchase them.

Maybe it was due to her triumphant securing of those documents, leaving her in high spirits. Or perhaps it was

the calm relief that washed over her after narrowly escaping danger. Nicole quipped with playful humor, "Roscoe, should | ever find myself short on funds in the future, | could simply sell off these clothes and enjoy a comfortable lifestyle for a few years." Even at a 30% discount, the timeless designs of these high end clothes would undoubtedly attract a crowd eager to purchase them.

Roscoe chuckled warmly, reassuringly adding, "Don't worry about that. | have the skills to support you and Austin." Upon hearing these words, Nicole lapsed into silence.

Roscoe consistently demonstrated selflessness, always prioritizing Austin's well-being without hidden agendas.

Ahush settled over the air for a brief moment.

The topic was so profound that it left one at a loss for words.

*Please, put these on," Roscoe broke the quietness and offered Nicole some clothes.

Nicole couldn't possibly sleep in her soiled attire after showering. Therefore, Roscoe kindly provided her with a black T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, which belonged to him.

Nicole stood there in a daze for a moment. It felt a bit strange to wear his clothes.

Roscoe reassured her, "They're new. | washed them but haven't worn them yet." During times when there were no tasks from the Watts family, Roscoe would often spend the night here, leaving some of his belongings downstairs.

His explanation made Nicole feel a bit melodramatic. After all, they were just clothes. Even if Roscoe had worn them, so what? She accepted them graciously and replied, "Thank you." Roscoe then passed her a bottle of lotion, suggesting.

"You might want to apply this to your feet and elbows later.” He observed those areas of Nicole's had been grazed.

"And additionally... Roscoe paused, retrieving a document from his pocket and passing it to Nicole. "These are confidential dealings between the Watts and Schultz families. It might prove useful to you." With those words, Roscoe exited, shutting the door behind him.

Nicole gripped the document tightly, her thoughts racing.

Despite the unlawful nature of the situation, Roscoe's actions unquestionably constituted a betrayal of the Watts family.

The weight of the document in her hand suddenly felt burdensome, causing her hand to ache. What repercussions would Roscoe face if the Watts family discovered his actions... She refrained from contemplating it.

After showering, Nicole emerged from the bathroom.

Nicole donned Roscoe's attire. However, they proved excessively long, prompting her to knot the T-shirt at the side and roll up the pants to expose her ankles.

Following a blow-dry session, she felt parched, possibly from the steam. Hence, she descended to the kitchen for water.

As Nicole entered the living room, she noticed a faint smell of blood. It was quite strong.

She glanced downward and spotted her recently removed jacket. The scent appeared to emanate from it.

With a single hand, she raised it, examining it closely.

Dried bloodstains adorned the chest of the black leather jacket.

Its matte finish had obscured them from her notice previously.

Yet, she hadn't sustained any injuries. So, could this blood