Love beyond the mask ( Whitney )
Chapter 484

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"Don't come any closer! Damn it, you're bleeding, stay still!" she cried out, her voice hoarse and soft like a desperate plea for him to listen.

Ludwik felt a pang of pain in his heart, but his thin lips curled up slightly, "Would you come to me, then?"

She wouldn't go to him. That was a chasm too deep. She couldn't forget the call from Florence, telling her about their rendezvous at the hotel... The distance between them was closing.

He was nearly at his limit, resorting to crawling, but even so, he wanted to save her.

Whitney's eyes were stained with tears as she bit her lip until it bled, wanting to distance herself further from him.

But she couldn't move, her body felt like a puddle, an intense heat making her soaked...

His large hand touched her ankle.

Her injured ankle, bleeding, her toes small and delicate, pink and soft as porcelain.

Looking at them, he felt a deep sense of tenderness, devoid of any distraction.

"Ludwik, no, please don't..." she clawed at the corner of the wall, her voice soft and weak, resisting yet wanting to indulge. Ludwik's hand moved up from the torn edge of her dress, wrapping around her waist, causing her to tremble at his touch.

His expression was grave, his features deep and serious, using the last of his strength to sit up beside her against the wall.

Looking at her flushed, tender face, his gaze remained sincere and focused. He reached for his belt, his trousers outlining his perfect form. He breathed lightly, "Come sit closer..."

"I can't," Whitney muffled her voice, hoarse and on the verge of breaking, "You'll die if we do this now."

"I'm more afraid of losing you," Ludwik spoke softly, his hand gently stroking her delicate ankle.

Whitney's heart shattered, tears streaming down her face.

She uncontrollably crawled toward him, clasping his strong neck, wrapping her arms around him like a soft, fiery cloud, burying herself in his embrace. Her eyes were wet, turning into springs.

Ludwik was moved, and indeed stirred, wrapping his arms around her slender body.

He didn't kiss her, partly because he lacked the strength, and partly because he feared she might mind.

He dared only to breathe in her soft, fragrant scent secretly, "Whitney, if I die, I'd rather die in your arms. Better than watching you die."

"I don't want this," Whitney cried, still trying to resist, her pride and sorrow painfully intertwined, "You and Florence..."

"I'm not tainted," he didn't know how else to explain. His relationship with Florence was never what she thought.

His smile was filled with bitterness.

Yet, she finally came to him... In the darkness, only their breathing was heard, gradually growing as intense as fire. Ludwik struggled to hold her hand, intertwining their fingers, every bit of joy suppressed under the pain and despair. He whispered hoarsely, "Don't fear my death, even if I die now, this moment is still blissful."

Whitney was too distraught to speak. Why did fate torture her like this, to become intimate with him under these circumstances?

Why? His every tender word made her heart break, she was in so much pain!

Yet her heart, like her body, couldn't help but tremble for him.

She told herself this was a desperate attempt at rescue, not to be soft-hearted, moved by pity, but he was willing to lay down his life for her...

Just like three years ago, when she was pregnant and attacked on a construction site, he unhesitatingly took the hit for her.

Tonight, to save her, he was stabbed, choosing to ensure her safety even now...

Everything seemed the same, yet everything had changed!

Whitney, in agony, hugged him tightly, overwhelmed by a torrent of sensations. "Ludwik!"

Finally, voices from above reached them.

Whitney, her cheeks flushed, froze abruptly.

Ludwik, half-conscious, took a breath and reassured her, "Don't be afraid."

His voice was deep, "Are you feeling better? Wear my jacket."

His saving her naturally eased her, the suffocating feeling dissipating somewhat.

Whitney hurriedly arranged their appearance as Parker's figure burst in, "Ludwik! Whitney?"

"We're here..." Whitney's voice was unnaturally low.

Police flooded the parking garage's entrance, and within ten minutes, they had cut through the chains.

"We need medical attention!" Whitney called out.

Parker quickly carried Ludwik onto the ambulance, with Whitney close behind.

As they neared the hospital, Ludwik's phone in his pocket suddenly rang. Whitney intended to switch it off.

But he suddenly came to for a few seconds, as if something urgent was on the line, barely conscious, he placed the phone to his ear to answer.

The ambulance siren wailed, Whitney couldn't hear who was on the other end.

But his expression changed drastically, his pupils dilated for a few seconds, his face turning pale.

"What's wrong?" Whitney puzzled. Was it Florence calling? Her thoughts were in disarray.

The next moment, his eyes closed, and he passed out, collapsing in the ambulance, the phone falling to the floor.

"Medical assistance!" Whitney shouted.

"We're at the hospital! Quick, get the patient out! He needs emergency surgery!" The ambulance staff hurriedly opened the door.

In the rush, Whitney hardly had time to think, jumping out after them, even forgetting to pick up the dropped phone.

At the emergency surgery entrance,

The surgeon frowned at Ludwik, "His blood pressure and heart rate are too low. With such a deep stab wound, why did he exert himself? Reckless, reckless! If he dies, it's not on the hospital!"

"No way. Whitney? How could Ludwik exercise..." Parker was both puzzled and somber as he turned his head.

Whitney's cheeks were burning red, her face a picture of helpless embarrassment. She nearly bit her lip to bleed.

"Miss, do you need an examination and some IV fluids?" a female doctor noticed Whitney's condition, "You're shaking, and your pupils can't focus. Were you harmed? Was that your husband? No wonder, we can't blame you." Whitney turned an even deeper shade of red with embarrassment.

Parker finally snapped to attention, taking a real good look at Whitney for the first time since the chaos erupted. Her clothes were a mess, barely covered by the jacket Ludwik had thrown over her shoulders.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Whitney, how about I stay here and you go get some treatment?"

Glancing down, he noticed her bare feet for the first time, her ankles smeared with blood. She had run through the night, risking life and limb to get Ludwik to safety, without even a pair of shoes on her feet. Parker was at a loss for words, unable to fully grasp the depth of what was happening between Ludwik and Whitney.

He sighed deeply, "You can't keep going like this. Go on, get treated. Ludwik's going to pull through."

Whitney, pale as a ghost, glanced at the operating room door before turning to follow the nurse out.

The clock struck half-past midnight.

After receiving a shot of some slow-release medication and finishing her IV treatment, Whitney began to feel her strength and clarity returning.

Sandy rushed in, out of breath, carrying a new pair of sneakers and some fresh clothes for her, even managing to arrange a hospital room on the fly.

Whitney was taken aback, "Sandy, what are you doing here at the hospital?"