BANG!
Along with the shattering of the wine bottle came screams from the room.
Giovanna, pale-faced, looked at Carl, who had shielded her in his arms, as blood mixed with wine gushed from his forehead.
"Carlito, Carlito, how are you, how are you..."
Giovanna got up from Carl’s embrace, supporting him as he sat down, and frantically grabbed tissues from the table to press against the wound on his forehead.
The tissues quickly became soaked with blood.
Giovanna turned back, roaring at me like a madwoman, "You crazy woman!!! Are you trying to kill someone??? How could Carlito have married a crazy woman like you!!!"
Carl paused for a moment, took the tissue himself, wiped the blood and alcohol from his eyes, and held onto Giovanna.
"Gio, don’t provoke her."
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
Giovanna pouted, extending her hand, which had a cut about 1 cm long from a glass shard.
Carl immediately stood up anxiously, carefully lifting her hand and leading her out.
"Why didn’t you say you were injured? Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital."
I looked down at my hand hanging by my side, blood dripping from my fingertips, sinking into the carpet and disappearing.
I had been busy all day at the company, only managing a few bites of bread for lunch because of important clients. Finally getting off work, I rushed to the club after seeing a message from someone else.
Carl, I’m exhausted, hungry, and sleepy. I’m also injured.
How did the Carl who used to scrape his hands raw and bleed all over while rescuing me from kidnappers become so distant?
Dizziness washed over me, making me feel disoriented, and I subconsciously grabbed the edge of the table, collapsing into a chair.
I heard someone call out to him, "Bro, Gio is also injured. She doesn’t look good!"
Carl’s voice carried over from a distance.
"She’s so strong, she can handle it herself."
I looked up at him, his departing figure so resolute.
Well, that’s fine. This way, I won’t feel too guilty when I make my move.
I looked up at these well-known playboys in K City, standing upright with concern in their eyes as they watched me.
I smiled and waved, "I’m hungry."
"Hey! Sister, coming right up!"
Landin Curry, the prince of the club, was the most proactive. He immediately arranged for someone to clean the table and serve food again.
I watched them busy like this, just like when we were kids, following behind me and Carlito calling us "bro and sis".
Since when did "bro" still be "bro", and "sis" became "Ms. Madden"?
Since I was 5 years old, I was abducted by the nanny. Three years older than me, Carlito, relied on analyzing the traces left by the nanny and found me before the police did, right?
When I woke up in a coma, I found myself lying on Carlito's slender back. He gritted his teeth, carried me on his back, and staggered out of that terrifying scene in the abandoned factory. It was etched in my heart for a lifetime.
The elders joked, saying that for the rest of his life, Carlito would always be Sash's favorite and exception.
But later, oh later, Carlito found his angle.
