Return of the Crowned Heiress

Felicia focused intently as she treated her wounds.

When it came time to remove the bullet, she took a deep breath, bit down on a piece of disinfectant cotton, and steeled herself, using tweezers to extract the bullet from her flesh.

Her face paled as sweat broke out, but she didn’t make a sound.

She thought she wasn’t bothering anyone, but she was unaware that every movement of hers was visible to Stephan through the reflection in the glass.

As she tore her pants open, Stephan remained relaxed, curious to see when she would cry out in pain or

scream.

When that happened, he intended to toss her out.

To his surprise, she remained completely silent, her shoulders trembling slightly. She didn’t even shed a single tear.

This was unexpected.

Before long, Felicia bandaged her leg. As her tense nerves relaxed, compounded by the loss of blood, she closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

An hour and a half later, the helicopter touched down at the Russell estate.

Felicia woke up. The estate was large and opulent. She had been there earlier in the afternoon, never imagining she would return in such a way. Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

Wincing, she stood up to exit the helicopter but didn’t notice Stephan also rising, his long legs striding to the door in just two steps.

She wouldn’t dare rush past him, so she quickly stepped aside.

However, she forgot about her injured leg. As she stepped back, the pain threw her off balance, and she stumbled right into him.

To the onlookers, it looked as though she had thrown herself into his arms.

Felicia’s heart raced as she instinctively recoiled, but Stephan tightened his grip, pinning her against the cabin wall, their closeness creating an intimate atmosphere.

His height, easily towering over six feet, made the confined space even tighter.

A tense energy filled the air. But Felicia only sensed danger.

Stephan’s sharp fingers traced the delicate curve of her neck. Instead of choking her, he pressed down. lightly, his cold fingertips pressing against the gash on her arm caused by the rock.

Blood oozed out.

Felicia stifled a groan, her face going pale.

As he released her, Stephan wiped his hands with a cloth. His words dripped with chilling intent. “There won’t be a next time. Understand?”

Whether it was clinging to him or claiming to be his, both were just asking for trouble.

His eyes narrowed, the murderous intent fading as he turned to leave.

His loyal subordinate followed closely, asking “Mr. Russell, she knows too much. Are we just going to let

her go?”

Stephan shot him a glance and replied slowly. “I’m a good person. I don’t kill anyone.”

The subordinate was at a loss for words.

Stephan might want to wipe off the blood stains on his hands before making such claims.

Felicia leaned against the cabin wall, gasping for breath.

Stephan had saved her from those criminals, and she had briefly thought that perhaps his cold, bloodthirsty figure in the rumors had a softer side.

But she was wrong.

He was just as unpredictable, if not more so, than the rumors suggested–an emotionally unstable, mercurial figure!

One minute, he was all smiles, and the next, he could kill.

With a heavy sigh, Felicia limped out of the helicopter. After leaving the estate, she walked for some time before finally hailing a cab.

She wondered whether the Fuller family was in a frenzy or calm after she had been missing for an entire night