Scars Of A Broken Bond by Calv Momose

Chapter 461

Chapter: 461

“No, he didn’t.”

“Alright, I’ll head over there later.”

After finishing her work, Sabrina stood up and headed to the CEO’s office.

Approaching the door, she intended to knock, but it appeared that the person inside had

already detected her presence. “Don’t knock. Come in,” a voice called out from within.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Sabrina pushed the door open and stepped inside.

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However, the sight that greeted her left her utterly stunned.

“Why are you half-naked?” she asked.

Embarrassed by the situation, Sabrina quickly turned around, not wanting to look at

Tyrone’s bare torso. Her face flushed with a tinge of red.

Tyrone leaned against the sofa, cradling his injured shoulder with one arm as he fixed his

gaze on Sabrina. His voice was low and weak as he spoke. “Sabrina, I’m injured. Come and

help me bind up my wounds.”

With his clothes soaked by the rain, Tyrone had originally planned to head home, but he

changed his mind and decided to come to the company

Standing still, Sabrina recalled the news she’d just learned, questioning, “Didn’t you go to

the hospital? Why is your injury untreated?”

“Who said I went to the hospital?”

“I came across a piece of news. It stated two casualties were transported to the hospital.”

“I never went to the hospital.”

Observing that Sabrina stood still, Tyrone reiterated, “Sabrina, I need your help.”

Sabrina’s gaze dropped to the knife-inflicted wounds on his arm and shoulder, his body

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marred with additional bruises.

Despite her reluctance, she couldn’t suppress her concern for him.

“You need to go to the hospital.” Yet, after a brief pause, she steeled her resolve.

“I refuse. The hospital is overcrowded, and I could bump into reporters,” he reasoned, his

aversion to public exposure of his private life evident.

He had no intention of revealing to Sabrina that Galilea’s injuries were on his account.

“What if I call Kylan to help you?”

“He’s engaged elsewhere.”

“Then your other secretaries…”

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll handle it myself.”

A self-deprecating smile danced on Tyrone’s lips as he opened the first-aid box before him,

rummaging for antiseptic cream and bandages.