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She rested her hand on his shoulder, her head gently turning. “Tyrone, what’s troubling
you?”
The warmth of Sabrina’s slender neck felt the heat of Tyrone’s breath, yet she fought the
instinct to pull away.
After a prolonged silence, Tyrone took a deep breath, composed himself, and closed his
eyes.
“It’s nothing.”
He retreated slowly, releasing Sabrina from his grasp.
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Sabrina lifted her gaze, sensing something profound in his heart.
Her scrutiny revealed the injuries on his face.
“Were you in a fight?” “Yes,” Tyrone replied, his voice subdued.
Startled, Sabrina remarked, “I’ll fetch the first aid kit. Please have a seat.”
The chairman’s office housed a spare first aid kit stocked with basic medical supplies.
Tyrone didn’t utter a word, casually draping his coat over the back of the sofa and taking a
seat.
Sabrina placed the first aid kit on the table, joined him and began searching for ointment.
In the midst of her task, she inquired, “What happened? How did you end up in a fight?
Didn’t you have a driver?’
Who would have the audacity to strike Tyrone? Who dared to leave him battered like this?
Tyrone remained silent in wake of her questions
It had been a considerable while since Sabrina had heard his voice. She cast a glance in
his direction, unscrewed the ointment, dispensed a bit onto the cotton swab and
instructed, “Bring your face closer.”
Tyrone had no intention of divulging the details and Sabrina respected his silence.
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Her willingness to tend to his wounds stemmed from her gratitude for his dealings with
Galilea on her behalf.
Tyrone obediently inclined his head toward Sabrina and she gently applied the cool
ointment with the cotton swab.
Sabrina stole a glance at him and inquired, “Does it sting?” “I’m perfectly fine,” Tyrone
responded, his gaze filled with affection for Sabrina.
Suddenly, an anxious tremor washed over Sabrina. She avoided meeting his eyes and
continued applying the medicine to his injury.
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