Chapter 43:

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“Fortunately, this dry grass hasn’t gotten damp. It should keep us going until dawn,” Allison declared, reappearing with a bundle of grass in her hands. Her fingers were concealing a sharp, tiny blade.

She stirred the campfire with a stick, her face glowing in the flickering flames, a stray lock of hair falling over her eyes, revealing a dark glint lurking within.

Kellan, leaning against the stone wall, gripped a sharp stone in his hand but eventually let it slip away. “Your bandaging skills are impressive. Did you pick them up somewhere?” he inquired.

“As a kid, I was something of a tomboy, always getting into trouble. I guess you could say practice made perfect,” Allison replied, her tone steady, her gaze never meeting his.

Kellan chuckled inwardly. Her story sounded a bit too rehearsed. If roughhousing could teach such advanced bandaging, then who needed doctors?

Still, he responded smoothly, “You must be quite the prodigy, then.”

“And your legs are indeed a marvel of modern medicine, Mr. Lloyd,” Allison shot back, her words carrying a subtle edge.

The air grew heavier with tension, further cooling the already strained atmosphere.

Allison’s fingers grazed the sharp blade, poised to strike at any moment. Kellan might be skilled, but his handicap made him an easy target.

Kellan’s reputation for ruthlessness had been earned over years of cutthroat business moves. While Allison had often dismissed the rumors, she knew that his rapid ascent within the Lloyd Group wasn’t due to kindness.

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His constant use of a wheelchair seemed like a cover for something more. Now that she had discovered a piece of his secret, he might be driven to take action, protecting himself from a threat she hadn’t even known she was posing.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, Allison smiled. “That necklace in your clothes is quite striking.”

The sight of it brought her back to that fateful night on the cruise when a gun had been pressed against her side.

Kellan twirled the necklace between his fingers, his voice low and gravelly. “A memento from a woman.”

He locked eyes with Allison and added deliberately, “A rather intriguing and dangerous woman. It certainly piques one’s curiosity to uncover her true identity.” Allison’s combat skills had been top-notch. Her actions on the cruise were impressively professional, far from the demure Mrs. Stevens the rumors had portrayed. Kellan, ever the skeptic, wondered if their encounter had been mere happenstance or something more sinister.

“Be cautious, Mr. Lloyd. Curiosity can be quite the double-edged sword.”

Allison threw another log on the fire, her expression serene as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The flickering flames cast shadows on her face, making her look both captivating and perilous. “But that necklace is exquisite. The previous owner must have had exceptional taste.”

Kellan couldn’t help but laugh. She truly had a flair for self-praise, even with the unspoken understanding between them. It took guts to compliment oneself so subtly.

Suddenly, Allison looked up and flashed him a smile.

“You’re quite skilled yourself, Mr. Lloyd,” she remarked, her fingers lightly brushing against the blade concealed in her hand.

Kellan’s expression hardened. “Just a bit of play. But I appreciate your assistance, Ms. Clarke.”

He knew all too well that Allison was a woman who struck first. After all, that night, he had even brandished a gun at her back to coerce her.

The tension was almost palpable, their gazes locked in a silent duel.

It felt as if an invisible fog was rising between them, filling the cave with an unspoken threat.

The cave was silent, the air heavy and oppressive. The crackling of the fire was the only sound, as embers danced in front of them.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I didn’t get a proper look at your wound earlier.”

Allison slowly rose and crouched down in front of Kellan. He could feel the soft brush of her hair against his cheek, a slight tickle in the warmth.

Then, she smiled gently.

“You’ve got a cut here. It doesn’t look like a knife wound.”

“More like a branch scratched you.”

As she spoke, her cold fingertips grazed his chest. The small blade hidden between her ring and pinky fingers was now dangerously close to his heart. “How about I take a closer look for you, Mr. Lloyd?” Her voice was warm and sweet, and she smiled.

But the sharp blade slipped easily through her fingers.

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