"The ambulance is here!"
Raymond Thorne’s spirit was jolted.
The doctor and nurse checked Anya Forrest’s condition briefly and then immediately placed her on the stretcher, carrying her out quickly.
Anya Forrest was taken into the ambulance.
The nurse stood beside the ambulance and said, "One family member is allowed to ride along."
"I’ll go." Raymond Thorne stepped forward swiftly. Before getting into the ambulance, he paused for a moment, looking at his friend nearby: "Brandon, you owe me an explanation for today’s incident."
"Don’t worry, I’ll definitely provide you with an explanation," Brandon Archer said solemnly.
If it weren’t for the fact that the assassin had targeted the wrong person and the friend’s female companion had intervened, today, one of them would have been lying down.
Raymond Thorne nodded and stepped into the ambulance.
After the ambulance roared away, Brandon Archer turned back, a look of ferocity on his face: "Bring me that bastard who struck! I want to see who wants my life!"
Inside the ambulance. The source of this content ɪs N0veI.Fiɾe.net
Anya Forrest lay on the stretcher, the wound on her arm still bleeding profusely, the bright red blood soaking a large part of the stretcher.
Having lost so much blood, Anya’s face was as pale as paper.
The doctor took scissors and cut off her sleeve, pulling down the fabric. With just that simple action, Anya sucked in deep breaths repeatedly from the pain, her pale pink lips almost bitten through.
Raymond Thorne looked at Anya, writhing in pain, and then at her deep wound. He repeatedly said, "Be gentle, doctor, be gentle, you’re hurting her."
The doctor, helpless, recalled his affluent status and could only contain himself as he said, "Mr. Thorne, this is unavoidable. If we don’t remove the shirt fabric, there’s no way to treat the wound. If it gets infected, it’ll be even more troublesome."
Raymond Thorne furrowed his brows, just about to say something when he saw Anya shake her head at him, smiling as she said, "It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt at all. Really, it doesn’t hurt at all."
"Nonsense, a knife cutting into flesh, how can it not hurt?"
"But you’re not injured."
Raymond Thorne froze, and the next second he felt his heart warm, as if something had flooded into his heart, so full it almost burst.
All his life, he had never felt this way—so intensely wonderful it almost overwhelmed him.
And he didn’t intend to struggle. In middle age, encountering such affection was the greatest blessing of his life.
Suddenly, he heard a sharp gasp of pain, and then he saw Anya complaining with a frown, "I was just boasting before; it really hurts now."
Raymond Thorne couldn’t help but smile, his gaze at Anya becoming even warmer.
Quinn Thorne was waiting downstairs in the apartment.
Earlier, he was too shocked, which was why he let Anya leave. Later, he thought about Boss Hawthorne’s words.
That’s right, even if his previous marriage record with Anya disappeared, it didn’t matter. Anya was back.
Anya was still there.
As long as she was around, they could register to marry at any time.
Besides, he actually felt that a hasty registration back then was too unfair to Anya.
His Anya deserved the best in this world.
Quinn suddenly felt a little excited, involuntarily imagining the wedding in his mind, though he didn’t know what kind of wedding Anya would like. Girls were very particular about weddings, so he needed to discuss it with Anya to prevent her from becoming unhappy.
But now that he thought about it, why was it so late and Anya still hadn’t returned?
Could something have happened?
The thought crossed his mind, making Quinn a bit uneasy. Just as he was about to go up to find Anya, he saw Raina North rushing down in a hurry.
Quinn’s heart skipped a beat as he took large strides to block Raina’s path: "Sister-in-law! Why hasn’t Anya come back yet? Did something happen to her?"
Raina North shot him a cold glance, angrily saying, "Shut up! If anyone’s in trouble, it’s you, not Anya! Stop cursing Anya here!"