Chapter 562
Chapter 562:
Stephen looked a little surprised. “You know how to alter clothes?”
“I do. I picked up a bit of fashion design on my own some time ago.” Leah would probably roll her eyes if she overheard this.
Janice, a renowned name in the fashion industry, downplaying her skills as “a bit”? That was a whole new level of humility.
“The swimsuits from the production team fit me just fine,” Stephen replied.
“I see.” Janice arched an eyebrow as Stephen stood firm by the door, refusing to step aside, making his stance crystal clear. Still, she showed no sign of backing down.
His behavior was growing more and more suspicious by the second.
It shouldn’t take a man long to slip into swim trunks, yet Stephen stood there, tightly wrapped in a bathrobe, as though he was hiding something.
Something about his behavior set off alarm bells in Janice’s mind.
Suddenly, Janice caught a faint scent in the air, her forehead creasing in response.
It was unmistakably the metallic scent of blood.
Her eyes narrowed, and she fixed Stephen with a look full of curiosity and concern.
“Janice, if that’s all, I’ll get back to…”
“Sure.” Janice gave him a small smile as if to leave, but in a swift motion, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Stephen’s eyes widened in shock, caught off guard by her sudden action. He staggered back, and in his panic, his foot slipped, sending him tumbling backward.
“Stephen!” Janice shouted, darting forward to grab him by the waist before he hit the floor.
𝗙𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗻 ⲅ𝖺𝖑𝗇𝗈𝖛𝖊𝗅𝘀﹒ⅽ𝗈𝗺
In a moment that seemed straight out of a cliché rescue scene, the roles were humorously flipped, with Janice playing the savior.
Janice was filled with embarrassment and guilt. She hadn’t anticipated that her abrupt action would rattle Stephen this much.
Stephen winced sharply, a faint groan of pain slipping through his lips. “Are you hurt, Stephen?” Janice hurried to steady him, noticing how pale his face had turned, with his lips drained of color.
“I’m okay.” Stephen brushed her off with a dismissive wave, trying to create some distance.
But then his eyes landed on Janice, who stood frozen, staring at her hand. Her palm was covered in blood, a deep red stain. “Stephen, you’re bleeding?”
Stephen’s face grew even paler, his expression betraying panic, as if a hidden truth had been exposed.
“I’m fine. Please, go,” he insisted, attempting to usher Janice out of the room. However, Janice’s gaze hardened with resolve. She caught his hand and spun him around, her focus landing on his back.
The pristine white bathrobe was marred by red stains, and with her experience as a surgeon, Janice instantly recognized the telltale signs of blood from a fresh wound.
.
.
.