Finnian shook his head. “No stitches. I’ve had worse. I know exactly when I need to be sewn up and when I don’t. This is a surface scratch. Just put the ointment on it.”

Reluctantly yielding to his confidence, Amara resumed treating the wound.

Once she focused on the task, any distracting thoughts about his incredible physique vanished.

She worked with meticulous care, her touch incredibly tender.

Finnian gazed down at her softly. She was so gentle right now, a total 180 from the fiery rage she had directed at him the night before. If taking a hit meant she would look at him with this much care every day, he’d gladly endure a new scar.

Before long, the wound was professionally dressed. Amara packed away the medical supplies and stood up. “Mr. Everly, thank you again for today. I’ll make sure to properly repay you soon, but it’s getting late. I should head back.”

Finnian blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to bolt the second the bandage

was on.

“It is late,” he agreed quickly. “Stay for dinner. I’ll cook. You just relax here.”

He sounded desperate to please, his eyes clinging to her with a heavy reluctance, as if watching her walk out that door physically hurt him.

Amara kept her eyes on the floor and gently slipped her hand out of his grasp. “There’s no need, Mr. Everly. I’ll grab something on the way. Goodnight.”

When he asked her to stay, a dangerous flutter had sparked in her chest.

She knew a part of her actually wanted to say yes, and that terrified her. Logic screamed that cutting ties cleanly was the only way to protect herself from endless future heartbreak.

That was why she delivered her rejection so coldly. Refusing to meet his gaze, she grabbed her purse and walked out.

Finnian followed her but didn’t beg. He simply escorted her downstairs, standing watch until she was safely inside her car.

Just as she was buckling her seatbelt, he grabbed her wrist through the open window. “Amara, you still haven’t told me. Why are you suddenly so cold to me?”

Her icy demeanor didn’t just feel like standard rejection—it felt reactive, like something specific had triggered it. Had something happened?

For a fleeting Second, Amara wanted to scream the truth. She wanted to shove Liliana’s smug photos in his face and demand to know why he was surushing to that woman’s side while claiming to care for her. Who did he actually love?

But her pride was fiercely unyielding. She refused to sound like a jealous, desperate

woman.

She brushed his hand off firmly. “I told you before, we shouldn’t see each other anymore. Constantly running into each other like this isn’t healthy We need to set some boundaries.”

Even as she spoke, she kept her eyes averted. She couldn’t stomach seeing the pain and longing in his gaze—it would only shatter her own resolve.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she rolled up the window, buried her lingering attachment, and sped off into the night.

Finnian stood rooted to the pavement, staring at her taillights long after they faded into the dark.

What had happened to make her push him away so violently? An overwhelming sadness gripped him, amplified by his complete helplessness.

Meanwhile, Emma had just received word that Antonia’s scheme was a total bust, Amara and the baby were completely unscathed, while her hired hitman had been beaten half to death by Finnian The news left her in absolute shock.

signian: The news

When reality finally set in, unbridled fury consumed her. Screaming like a maniac,

she trashed the living room, smashing everything in sight.