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The usually reserved and conservative Nina Sinclair felt utterly embarrassed, as if she’d lost all her dignity today, breaking through all limits.

Seeing she was still holding the towel, Nina hastily handed it to him, her face turning an unnatural shade of red. "I... I’m sorry, I didn’t an to."

Help!

She felt like so kind of creepy voyeur!

Julian Lancaster calmly put on a bathrobe, the belt cinching around his well-toned waist, the black robe exuding a refined and noble aura.

He turned and walked out of the bathroom, with Nina hobbling behind him, head down, feeling like she was still dreaming.

Once outside, she stood there awkwardly.

"Co here." Julian walked over to the sofa holding a dical kit.

Nina tiptoed over and sat down on a chair. Julian opened the dical kit, and glanced at Nina’s tight pants, his brow furrowing instinctively.

He turned to fetch a pair of scissors.

Nina froze, "What are you going to do?"

Could he be planning to snip her because she accidentally saw his unspeakable parts?

With a rip, the scissors swiftly shredded her pants.

Since the wound was high up, the cut extended to the base of her thigh, nearly exposing her floral-printed panties.

Nina’s face suddenly turned red, and she nervously said, "Hey, wait a mont!"

Julian’s large hand held down her knee, "Don’t move."

"I won’t dare move."

With scissors in his hand, Nina was terrified he’d accidentally stab her, so she sat stiffly while he tended to her wound.

She accidentally saw his parts, and now he was looking at her leg. Now they were even.

Nina’s legs were long and fair, with a long gash at the thigh bleeding continuously, the situation looked grim.

Their current proximity was close, and Nina couldn’t help but glance at Julian.

Earlier, she’d seen the wedding certificate photo, where Sharon had photoshopped them together, making it look quite convincing.

The photo seed to capture only a tenth of his good looks. From her viewpoint, his straight, prominent nose and deep-set features appeared to be ticulous creations of God.

This driver was quite handso.

Julian took out so cotton swabs, dipped them in disinfectant iodine, and then applied them to her wound while holding onto her knee.

The sharp sting made Nina almost jump. She suspected Julian was doing it on purpose.

"It hurts, ow, it hurts... can’t you be gentle!!" Nina yelped in pain.

After a series of operations, Nina was tearful, holding back the urge to cry, her face white and pitiful.

"It’s going to hurt a bit, bear with it."

Nina clenched her fists, gritting her teeth to endure the pain.

Monts later, the wound was treated, and Julian packed up the dical supplies, saying, "It’s done. Don’t let the wound get wet for the next couple of days."

"Th-thank you."

"We need to talk." The man suddenly said.

"Talk about what?" Nina looked at him in astonishnt.

Could he want compensation from her?

Her mother needed expensive dical treatnts, and Nina, living alone, scrimped and saved, spending all her money on the dical bills, so she had no money at all.

No money, just her life to give!

Seeing the confusion in Nina’s eyes, Julian crossed his arms, speaking slowly, "We’ve already registered. We are legally married."

Already registered... legally married...

Nina felt as though her brain had short-circuited.

Wait... wasn’t their marriage certificate fake? Sharon had arranged a fake one, claiming it wouldn’t be recorded in the marriage system!

Julian’s deep-set eyes darkened.

He understood Sharon did this to help him.

His father, discontent with having his life controlled by his grandfather, had fled to Veridia Branch to hide. Now, with his grandfather disappointed in his father, the focus had shifted to him.

In an instant decision, Julian resolved to let this happen, to find a woman to fill the position of his wife, preventing his grandfather from making further plans.

Sharon’s good friend should pose no problem.

Julian continued assertively, "Since you’ve beco my wife, we need to set so ground rules."

"Wait..." Nina interrupted him, her face puzzled, asking, "Our marriage certificate is fake, right?"

"Who told you it’s fake?"

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