Gillian looked over with high alert.
It was Julian.
York had eyes and ears everywhere. Getting a key to a standard apartment lock was effortless for him.
When Julian saw the horrifying amount of blood covering Gillian's hand, his heart hammered against his ribs. He couldn't even fathom what kind of brutal standoff had just taken place upstairs.
"Mrs. Foster..." Julian spoke with immense caution. "Boss asked me to come up and check your wounds. Here's the medical kit. Let me bandage that up for you."
Having just moved into the new apartment, she hadn't prepared a first-aid kit yet, let alone gauze or clotting powder.
Gillian took a deep breath. "Just leave it on the table and go. I'll do it myself."
Julian looked conflicted. "Boss explicitly ordered me to watch over you until I'm absolutely certain you're okay. He also told me to pass on a message. He said if you refuse, you know exactly what he's capable of. He wants you to decide whether you want to let me properly bandage the wound, or if you want to be forced to move back home..."
This man was tyrannical, arrogant, and entirely uncompromising.
For him to back off this much was already considered a massive concession on his part.
Ultimately, Gillian gave in.
Julian helped disinfect and bandage the cuts on her wrist.
The raw gashes, layered over one another, were a gruesome sight to behold.
"Boss ordered... if I couldn't handle the injury properly, I was to take you straight to the hospital. He also wants you to get a thorough checkup for the baby..."
He spoke with extreme care.
Gillian's expression remained completely indifferent. She didn't say a single word.
Julian was excellent at reading the room. Seeing that she wasn't in any critical danger, he smartly kept his mouth shut.
Meanwhile, downstairs.


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