When Albatross returned, Arabella was just about to have her lunch.
As soon as Albatross entered, she greeted him with a smile, "Back safe? Wash up and join me for lunch."
Albatross's complexion was far from pleasant. Reality allowed no room for ease, for he had just survived a deadly struggle.
On their way to Rus, Albatross and his companions were ambushed by the local armed forces.
The enemy had prepared for them, and with Arabella taking the elite soldiers when she left, Albatross and his group found themselves in dire peril.
Fortunately, news spread swiftly, and Arabella had sent Raven and his men to offer reinforcements.
Having escaped, Arabella returned to find Arabella calmly preparing her meal, unfazed.
His chest was in turmoil; though his injuries were light, the suffocating emotions were beyond his control.
He knew what kind of woman Arabella was.
The notion that she was heartless was just an exaggerated excuse.
Arabella wasn't pretentious; she was simply straightforward and didn't pay attention to anyone.
Except for herself.
He knew that this woman didn't care about anyone except herself.
Yet he could not help but place her in his heart, treating her as his most treasured possession; but her indifferent reply burned him, scorching his heart with its pain.
Forcing himself to steady his emotions, Albatross extended his hand and softly said, "I'm injured."
Arabella glanced at him, then moved her gaze to his face, before tilting her head with a light smile and gesturing for Albatross to come closer.
He knew it was fake, but still, it made him fall deeper.
Albatross put aside his arrogance and walked over to sit next to Arabella.
Arabella leaned into Albatross's arms, carefully inspecting his injured arm, then said in a tone full of concern, "You've suffered."
Bullshit concern.
Her words were perfectly calm, without a hint of emotion.
But Albatross was still moved by her false words. He tightened his arm, pulling the woman in his embrace closer.
He was being pathetic, the kind that was beyond saving.
Afterward, when Albatross went to take a bath, he and Arabella shared a bath together.
Perhaps the thrill of life-and-death experiences had made Albatross even more ferocious this time.
His features were handsome, yet his masculine aura was undeniable, with a fair share of leg hair and even some chest hair on his torso.
His hair was thick, and so was his desire.
Arabella was always very open when it came to matters in bed.
Albatross was considered "one of her own." While she was cautious, she wasn't as on guard as she would be with strangers, where every pore would be alert.
She killed almost every day, so she was always on guard, expecting someone to try to kill her.
Having sex with other men might offer a fleeting novelty, but it never compared to the satisfaction she got from her own people.
The two of them twisted together in the bathtub, the water swirling and mist rising, the scene inside stirring up a frenzy of carnal passion.
Seeing Arabella arch her hips and twist her waist, Albatross's desire was unbearable, and he slapped her round bottom.
He let out a breath of frustration, the rising passion taking over.
Arabella didn't care for the typical bedroom play. She simply bit Albatross's jaw back, her laughter sweet and crisp, and she teasingly asked, "Is this satisfying?"
More than satisfying, Albatross responded with a passionate, forceful kiss.
Their breaths tangled, and Arabella was put in a spread-eagle position by Albatross.
As she was penetrated deeply, Arabella let out soft moans, the carnal energy filling the entire bathroom.
Albatross grasped Arabella's feet, his posture elegant and upright. At that moment, he slightly bent forward and pressed a kiss to the top of her feet, his demeanor reverent, soft as if feathers turning to dust, carrying an unguarded sincerity that seemed to tear at the very heart and soul.
Most people would be moved by such an action. Even those with hearts of stone would inevitably have a layer of their armor cracked.
But Arabella had no heart. Her cold, indifferent demeanor was not for show; Albatross's actions were just an afterthought of lust to her.
Raven stood outside the door this time, not stepping inside.
Arabella could spend a night with anyone without making him suffer like this, but only Albatross could.
He maliciously thought that, amidst the gunfire and chaos, he should have arrived a little later.
If Albatross died, would Arabella be upset?
Definitely not.
She might feel a bit regretful, but it didn't matter—she still had him.
He would stay by her side, even if it meant watching from a distance for the rest of his life.
Yet, Albatross was still there, and couldn't die.
Albatross's skills weren't weak. Back when they trained together, they could always match each other evenly.
Why did he fail last time?
Was it better to be in her bed, or by her side?
Neither of them could explain.
After the intimacy movements were done, Arabella nestled in Albatross's arms, savoring his gentle kneading, soothing the lingering soreness from their recent passion.
"This time, I owe my life to Nicholas."
"Nicholas?" Arabella paused, letting the name swirl in her mind before recalling that she had, on a whim, bought a pet some time ago.
At the time, the pet had performed well enough to earn his life.
"He happened to be by my side and took a bullet for me."
"Oh." Arabella responded indifferently, showing no further interest in the topic.
Albatross felt a bitter sweetness.
Arabella, this woman, at least offered him some pretense of affection.
In comparison, he was the one favored, after all.
Once Albatross had dressed his wound, taken an anti-inflammatory shot, and fallen into a deep sleep, Arabella rose and quietly departed.
She went to check on the injured pet.
No matter what, once she bought it, it became hers.
On a whim, she didn't kill him that night, and now him should stay.
Raven lifted his foot to follow, his gaze subtly landing on Arabella.
When she rose, she wore only an outer garment, carelessly fastening a few buttons. The neckline hung wide open, exposing a large expanse of bare skin, which gleamed dazzlingly white in the light.
Arabella truly had naturally flawless skin.
Through gunfire and rain, smoke and alcohol, her skin showed no signs of roughness.
With a cruel heart, yet a face that could deceive, leaving others defenseless.
The most terrifying thing was Arabella's smile.
Even if others hide their emotions, the underlying feelings will inevitably show. Yet, for those like them—desperate and on the edge—some are numb, others arrogant, and some fierce.
But Arabella was none of these. She merely smiled, a smile that was impenetrable from all sides, as if no weapon could touch her.
Nicholas, due to his injury, was given decent treatment.
He was placed in a small private room; the gunshot wound was not fatal, but enough to keep him bedridden for half a month.
When Arabella walked in, Nicholas was listening to a symphony.
Such elegant music was hard to come by in a war-torn country. People were too busy to enjoy such luxuries.
Perhaps only in the stable and peaceful kingdom of Scalien could the people have such an opportunity, the music rising and falling, shaking the soul.
Arabella stood silently at the door, listening, unmoving. The dim light at the doorway made it difficult for Raven to discern any shift in her rare mood, hoping to glimpse some insight into her inner world.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to discover.
A smile still lingered on Arabella's lips, yet in the shadow's embrace, that smile became chillingly cold, sending a shiver through the heart.
After an unknown amount of time, perhaps Nicholas's gaze shifted unconsciously, and he saw Arabella.
"Arabella?"
He didn't address her with the usual formalities.
It seemed from the beginning that Nicholas wasn't afraid of her.
The education he received in his homeland taught him that all men are equal. If circumstances forced him into a position of subjugation, it was merely a temporary humiliation, with no fundamental difference between him and others.
Arabella didn't care what others called her.
What mattered was not the formality of the title; whether they called her "Bxxtch" or anything else, she would still be herself.
Arabella entered and assumed a concerned posture, reaching out to gently brush over the bandage tied around his wound, her voice soft as she asked, "Why did you take the bullet for Albatross?"
"I didn't think much about it; I was just by his side. It was probably just a reflex," Nicholas answered directly, he truly hadn't thought much at that moment.
"Mm." Arabella nodded, then turned her head to glance at the music still playing, asking with interest, "Where did it come from?"
"One of the people from the black market deal returned my luggage. Perhaps it was out of respect for you."
Arabella extended her hand, "Let me take a look."
Nicholas paused for a moment, then realized Arabella wanted to see his luggage.
He was open and unashamed, not afraid to look. With a gesture of his hand, he pointed to another cabinet where it was shoved away.
Raven walked over, retrieved the suitcase, and handed it to Arabella.
Arabella opened it and casually flipped through, spotting a book inside. She picked it up and remarked, "You have quite an interest in finance."
"I'm a trader," he replied. "Naturally, I know a thing or two about it."
"Do you like listening to symphonies?"
Nicholas instinctively asked, "Do you like it too?"
Arabella lowered her head, flipping through the book without replying. The music filled the room, spilling into the outside as well. After a long pause, a soft hum escaped her lips, a quiet acknowledgment: "Hmm."
With Arabella's response, Nicholas became more interested. Arriving at this place, he felt surrounded by the smoke and flames of war, where no one knew how to live—only how to survive.
At last, there was one, whose existence held not only a body but a soul. Though, he harbored deep skepticism that someone like Arabella could possess a soul at all.
But having someone was still a good thing.
He eagerly started talking to Arabella about music.
To his surprise, Arabella was able to keep up, and their conversation shifted from music to other topics, growing more engaging as they spoke.
In one night, Nicholas felt he had found a confidant, while Arabella had found a new distraction.
