Chapter 231: Struggle
Where the fuck is Diego?! His restless thoughts echoed through his mind as he rose from the bed and made his way towards the room balcony. Determined to regain composure and find a solution, he took a deep breath, hoping to calm the storm raging within him and focus on saving her.
He walked back to her side and leaned over her, hovering over her nostrils in search of signs of breath. Though there was a semblance of respiration, it was painfully clear that she was suffering greatly.
Her breaths came in short, wheezing gasps, like those of a chronic smoker meeting his nemesis. The wound inflicted on her had started to encroach her vital organs.
He stood up straight, scanning her entire being as he desperately thought of a way to alleviate her pain. His hands hovered uncertainly, momentarily paralyzed by the weight of his indecision.
His struggle intensified as his body, against his volition, reacted to the sight of her bosom straining against the delicate material of her dress, begging for release.
He shook his head sideways, willing his mind out of his lascivious thoughts, and firmly grasped the edges of the edges where her buttons held her dress intact. He yanked the buttons apart, sending them cascading to the floor, unveiling a captivating sight of sky blue lace-clad breasts that spilled forth in their entire glorious splendor.
"Master Quinn," Diego called out, offering a lifeline to preserve her dignity. The medical team rushed in. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly snatched a quilt tucked within the bedframe and flung it over her exposed bosom, an attempt to shield her from the eyes of them. A futile gesture, as he knew they would still take it off.
In spite his unwillingness to comply, he stepped aside, making way for them to tend to her. His impatience gnawed at his insides, but he understood the importance of their expertise.
He walked towards the doors leading to the balcony, casting one last glance over his shoulder to observe their effort as they worked to address her wound.