?<strong>Chapter 401:</strong>
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Theke seemed bottomless, its freezing waters gripping them tightly, dragging them down without mercy. The sharp taste of blood lingered in the water, and before Allison could fully grasp what was happening, Ken, the man pressed against her, had already slipped into unconsciousness.
“Ken!” she called, panic rising.
Bubbles rose endlessly around them, forming an eerie, suffocating cage of water. Ken’s pale face drifted in and out of view, lifeless in the swirling red.
Determined, Allison gritted her teeth and pushed deeper into the cold abyss. Her lungs screamed for air, her face drained of color, but she didn’t hesitate.
Her fingertips brushed against his face.
The icy waters dulled her senses, but Allison moved on instinct. She pressed her lips to his, transferring the breath she was holding to him.
In his foggy, semi-conscious state, Ken vaguely felt warmth—something soft against his lips. His mind, however, was clouded, as though drifting through a dark, endless dream. Memories shed in his mind, tormenting him.
“Kneel outside for an hour! You’ll learn discipline.”
“My son must be the best. Look at yourself now. You’re a disgrace!”
“If you can’t achieve this, forget being the future heir of Lloyd Group!”
Ken didn’t know how long he had been trapped in this nightmarish haze before he finally jolted awake. The tangled weeds at theke’s bottom twisted around Allison’s long hair, pulling him back to reality.
“Ugh!” he gasped, blinking in confusion.
Allison felt a shift. Ken’s cold mouth was suddenly too aggressive—he nearly enveloped her tongue, as if desperately trying to breathe, his body acting on instinct.
What was meant to be a life-saving breath had turned into an unexpected underwater kiss.
Realizing he was panicking, Allison bit down hard on his lower lip, breaking free from his grip.
Momentster, with a loud ssh, they both broke through the surface.
“Cough, cough…” Allison copsed onto the shore, gasping for air.
In the distance, shing lights danced over the water, apanied by the wail of approaching sirens, creating a scene of chaos.
Ken leaned against a tree, soaked and looking utterly wrecked. His skin was deathly pale, his breath ragged.
“Hold still, I’ll stop the bleeding,” Allison said, tearing a strip from her shirt. With practiced hands, she wrapped it around his back.
She wasn’t coldhearted, and she couldn’t forget what had happened underwater. When the bomb exploded, the debris should have torn into her back—but Ken had shielded her.
If it weren’t for him, she would have been the one lying there, gravely injured.
The thin strip of fabric wrapped tightly around Ken’s torso, but it was only a temporary fix, barely slowing the bleeding.
To make the bandage more effective, Allison pulled it tightly, causing Ken to wince slightly. He barely made a sound beyond a low, muffled groan, as if he were immune to the pain.
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