Chapter 740 Blood on the Stairs

The family of the hostage Margaret seized fell to their knees, begging for mercy.

In the chaos, no one noticed Wyatt and Yunice slipping into the corner.

“We’re leaving,” Wyatt murmured, pushing Yunice toward the exit.

But soon he felt her pace falter. He stopped immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Her face had gone pale. She bit her lip, trying to mask her panic with a show of strength.

Wyatt’s gaze swept down her body – and froze.

“Blood? You’re hurt?” He crouched quickly, examining her. But her clothes weren’t torn. The blood wasn’t from a wound. It was from—

His expression changed. “Your period?”

Yunice’s lashes trembled. Her lips were bloodless as she stared at him, her whole body shaking, unable to speak.

Within moments, she swayed, unable to stand. Her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed to the floor.

Wyatt caught her in a rush, his mind roaring blank, then scooped her up into his arms.

The elevators had been shut down. The only way out was the stairs.

Step after step, he carried her down, his voice steady though his heart thundered. “Don’t be afraid. The ambulance is waiting downstairs. Just a few minutes. Just hold on…”

Yunice clutched his shirt so tightly the fabric wrinkled in her grip.

She looked up at him, brows knitted. “…I don’t think I can keep it.”

Her constitution was weak, and the shock had struck hard.

Wyatt’s face drained of color. His eyes rimmed red. “You… you really… you were pregnant?”

“You told me you didn’t want this! Joe said…”

Said her body wasn’t fit, that even if she conceived, she wouldn’t be able to carry it.

And he had taken precautions. He had made sure.

So why?

Why now?

The image of his mother leaping from a building flashed violently across his mind. His vision swam black, his arms trembled – but he forced himself steady, clutching Yunice tighter, carrying her onward.

“Don’t worry. Our medical team is the best. They won’t let anything happen to you…”

Then something wet struck her hand. Yunice looked up. It wasn’t blood – it was Wyatt’s tears, spilling silently down his face.

Her voice was calm, quiet. “This child was my wish. My selfishness. It has nothing to do with you.

I know you went through with the surgery, that you did it for me. I was grateful. But people are selfish. I’m sorry… I stole your genes.”

Wyatt’s voice broke with anger. “I’m furious! You always decide everything yourself. Did you plan from the start to take my child abroad and raise it alone, without me? You’d get your fulfillment—what about me? Did you think that after a year or two, my love for you would fade, that I’d just find another woman, marry, have children, live a ‘normal’ life? You’re wrong. I spent thirty years alone. I won’t just settle for anyone.”

His head bent, his voice rough. “Hold on. Survive this, and I’ll never fight you again. You want children? I’ll give them to you – however many you want. Do you hear me?”

Yunice bit her lip, conserving her strength.

She felt his arms falter. To ease him, she slid her hand against his waist, trying to help carry her own weight.

But then – her fingertips brushed wetness.

Her eyes flicked down. Blood.

Her hand trembled. She stared, horrified, at Wyatt’s back.

“Wyatt, you—” Her voice cracked. She struggled to get down.

He held her tighter, his voice low and firm. “Don’t move. We’re almost there.”

“Let me see!” she rasped. “You need to stop the bleeding – you’re still losing blood!”

“It’s just a scratch,” he lied. “I’ve been hurt worse before. I’m used to it. Don’t make a fuss. Just… protect my daughter. I want to see her born.”

Yunice turned her head, her gaze falling behind them.

The stairs were streaked with a trail of blood, each step dripping downward.

Her tears burst free. “Wyatt, put me down. I can’t… I can’t go on like this.”

Wyatt thought she meant the pain. He lowered her carefully onto a clean stretch of stairs.

But as he set her down, his knees buckled, his own body nearly collapsing.

From this angle, Yunice finally saw it clearly – his waist torn open, blood pumping in steady gushes.

Her hands flew to the wound, desperate to stop the flow. “No – no, Wyatt, don’t you dare! Hold on!”