Chapter 6 - Tending to the WolfPanic seized me in a suffocating grip.
I scrambled over the center console, grabbing his heavy shoulders.
“Julian! Wake up!” I screamed, shaking him.
He groaned weakly but didn't open his eyes.
I managed to drag him out of the vehicle, his massive weight nearly crushing me.
I threw his arm over my shoulder and half-carried, half-dragged him up the stone steps.
I found a keypad on the door and prayed his security codes were standard.
I typed in the same code he used for his office safe.
The lock clicked open.
I pulled him inside and laid him on the massive leather sofa in the living room.
I stripped off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his blood-soaked shirt.
The bullet had passed straight through his side, missing his vital organs but leaving a nasty wound.
I found a fully stocked trauma kit in the bathroom.
For the next hour, I worked in silence, cleaning and packing the wound.
My hands, usually so clumsy around him, were surprisingly steady.
When I finally finished bandaging him, I collapsed onto the floor beside the couch.
I stared at the most dangerous man in New York, looking so vulnerable in his sleep.
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He was risking his empire for a maid.
I needed to know why.
