Bastien wrapped Kate in a towel and placed one around his own waist.

—Come here, let me dry your hair.

—Bastien, I can do it myself. You’re the one who got shot, not me.

—Let me do it. I want to.

Kate sighed in defeat.

—Alright.

Bastien sat her in front of the vanity and began combing her hair carefully. He turned on the hair dryer with warm air while gently running his fingers through her strands. Kate watched him through the mirror—so focused. Who would’ve thought that a ruthless mafia boss co