My CEO Husband Says I'm Irreplaceable

Chapter 112: Chapter 112: Cut the Flattery

The person on the ground was unresponsive.

She knelt and checked for a breath. There was a faint one; he must have passed out.

It took all her strength to get him back to Whispering Breeze Lodge.

The bright lights illuminated the man’s resolute, handsome features. His face was crisscrossed with wounds, and his black trench coat was soaked through with large patches of blood.

She gently lifted the coat, revealing a white shirt underneath that was an even more startling shade of crimson.

Unbuttoning the shirt, she saw several knife wounds slashed across his firm chest and abdomen, the flesh torn open. The sight made her heart clench. But what truly horrified her was the bloody hole in his abdomen, which was oozing blood nonstop.

As a seasoned TV drama enthusiast, she recognized it instantly: a gunshot wound.

Her heart sank.

Torn between calling the police and just throwing him out, she finally compromised with herself and decided to keep him.

For the sake of that face, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him to die.

But a gunshot wound this severe was completely beyond her ability to treat.

She suddenly remembered that Vesper Grayson knew medicine. She used to treat the wounds of stray cats and dogs.

Citadel One.

Vesper Grayson had just been about to soak in the tub and relax when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, a slight smile touching her lips.

"You have a nose like a bloodhound. Did you somehow know I brought you a gift?"

"Vesper, can you come over?"

"What’s wrong?"

"I just got back. I rescued a man on the way here. He’s badly injured and unconscious, and I don’t know how to treat his wounds..."

"You’ve got some nerve, picking up any random person and bringing them home." Vesper Grayson’s brow furrowed. "If you can’t handle it, call an ambulance."

Shiloh Sloan hesitated, then lowered her voice even more. "He has... a gunshot wound. I don’t dare call an ambulance."

’A gunshot wound?’

Vesper Grayson’s expression instantly grew serious.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Then you have even less reason to keep him. Just call the police. If he turns out to be a dangerous person, you’re just asking for trouble."

"But he doesn’t look like a bad guy. Bonnie, you have to hurry over. Any later, and he’s really going to die here!"

"Stay put."

She threw on a coat, grabbed her medical kit, and hurried downstairs.

Half an hour later, Vesper Grayson arrived at Whispering Breeze Lodge.

The door opened a crack. Seeing it was her, Shiloh Sloan immediately pulled her inside, glanced around warily, and then quickly shut and deadbolted the door.

"Bonnie, did you see anyone suspicious on your way here?"

Vesper Grayson was half-amused, half-exasperated. "Have you been watching too many cop dramas? Where is he?"

"In here."

Walking into the living room, she saw a man lying on the floor, his face ashen. He was in such a wretched state he looked to be on the verge of death.

She hurried forward to examine his injuries, pulling out silver needles and quickly applying them to stop the bleeding first.

"The wounds are fresh, no more than four hours old. The knife wounds aren’t fatal, and the gunshot didn’t hit any vital organs, but if he keeps bleeding like this, he won’t last long. I need to take the bullet out now."

Shiloh Sloan nodded quickly. "Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything."

"Go get a basin of warm water. Then run to the pharmacy by the entrance and buy two bottles of hydrogen peroxide and some gauze."

"Okay, I’ll go right now."

Fortunately, her medical kit was stocked with anesthetic. Once it took effect, Vesper Grayson quickly debrided the wound, cut into the flesh, removed the bullet, and then carefully stitched and bandaged it.

Then she tended to the knife wounds one by one, disinfecting the shallow ones and debriding and suturing the deep ones before bandaging each of them properly.

An hour later, all the wounds had been treated.

Vesper Grayson washed her hands, sat back down on the sofa, and took a light sip of tea.

"There. He won’t die."

Shiloh Sloan couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. "All that time you spent saving stray cats and dogs really paid off. Bonnie, your technique was incredible just now. It was breathtaking to watch."

"Spare me the flattery. Are you planning on keeping him here?"

"He’s this badly hurt. I can’t just throw him out now, can I?"

"An unidentified man... you’re not afraid of bringing trouble upon yourself by keeping him around?" Vesper Grayson put down her teacup and glanced at her. "Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him?"

’His face really is handsome and proper, his build is tall and straight, and his muscles are firm. He looks like someone who trains year-round and has sharp skills.’

"Of course not..." Shiloh Sloan rubbed her nose, looking a little guilty. "He was just lying there on the ground. I couldn’t just leave him to die. Besides, look at his face. He doesn’t look like a bad guy."

Vesper Grayson looked at her, at a loss for words.

"If you want to keep him, then keep him. But he’s a grown man, after all. You need to be careful and protect yourself."

’She’s already saved him, and his injuries are so severe. It would be unreasonable to kick him out now.’

"I know."

"The moment you sense anything wrong, find a way to get rid of him."

"Don’t worry. If he’s really a bad guy, I’ll have Quentin Stone throw him out."

"And who’s Quentin Stone?"

"A bodyguard I hired from a boxing ring a while back. He specializes in helping me collect debts."

...

When Jared Hawthorne returned to Citadel One, he looked around but didn’t see that familiar small figure.

"Where is she?"

Joan replied in a low voice, "The Madam just went out."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"She didn’t say, just grabbed the medical kit and left in a hurry. It seemed urgent."

Jared Hawthorne’s brow furrowed slightly as he took out his phone and dialed Vesper Grayson’s number.

It rang a few times before it was answered.

"Where did you go?"

"You’re back?"

"I am."

"I’m at Shiloh’s place. I’m heading back now."

"Be careful on your way."

Vesper Grayson acknowledged, then hung up and stood.

"I’m heading back. Call me anytime if something happens."

Shiloh Sloan walked her to the door, unable to resist teasing her.

"I never thought the famous President Hawthorne would be so clingy. You’ve only been out for a little over two hours, and he’s already calling to rush you back. Looks like you two are getting along well lately."

"It’s alright. By the way, I brought you a gift back from Portclyde. I was in a hurry earlier and didn’t grab it. You can pick it up next time you come over."

"You’re the best, Bonnie. You always think of me wherever you go."

After watching Vesper Grayson get in her car and drive away, Shiloh Sloan turned to go back inside.

Just as she turned the corner, a flurry of urgent footsteps echoed from the adjacent alley, followed by a man’s hushed voice.

"He was last seen in this area. Search! He’s badly injured, he couldn’t have gotten far!"

"I want him found, dead or alive!"

Shiloh Sloan’s heart began to pound violently.

She rushed into the courtyard, quickly locked the main gate from the inside, and returned to the living room to draw all the curtains shut.

Her gaze fell on the unconscious man on the floor. She pulled a blanket from the sofa and gently covered him with it.

Turning off all the lights, she clutched a fruit knife and stared intently at the door, not daring to close her eyes all night. It wasn’t until the sky began to lighten that she finally succumbed to exhaustion and drifted into a groggy sleep.

...

When Vesper Grayson returned home, Jared Hawthorne was waiting for her on the sofa.

The man was dressed in dark blue loungewear, his hair slightly damp. With his legs crossed, he looked both distinguished and lazy.

Hearing her enter, he looked up.

"Did something happen at Miss Sloan’s? Joan said you took the medical kit when you left."

Vesper Grayson slipped on her slippers and walked over.

"Shiloh’s fine. She just happened to pick up an injured man tonight."

"And she had you go over to treat his wounds?"

"Yes."

Jared Hawthorne’s brow twitched. He rose and walked over to her, leaning in slightly. His nose twitched as he sniffed the air, and his gaze finally landed on a tiny, almost unnoticeable speck of blood on her cuff.

"You’re dirty."

Vesper Grayson followed his line of sight and looked down, only then noticing the dark red stain.

"I must have gotten it on me while I was treating the wounds."

’I didn’t even notice, but this damned man’s nose is incredibly sharp.’

Jared Hawthorne wrapped an arm around her slender waist. His dark eyes were somber, his tone tinged with obvious displeasure.

"Just because you know a little medicine, you think you can touch any man? Have all the doctors in Northolme died off? Did you really need to handle it yourself?"

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