Chapter 190 How Did You Get Here
Seeing this, Marcus struggled to rise, only to be stomped back down by the shorter robber. "What do you think you're doing? Trying to play the hero? Look at yourself first!"
But Marcus was putting up a fight; he managed to give the short thug a hard time when a knife suddenly flashed in the dim light with a chilling directive. “Make another move, and let's see if this little beauty agrees."
Isabella's voice, laced with panic, filled the air. "Stop, stop, stop, can we just talk about this... put down the knife..."
The thug responded with a heartless burst of laughter, basically mocking their efforts. "Sure, let's talk. But first, let’s check what you got in your pockets, and while we're at it; why don’t we have a little fun..."
What?! The color drained from Isabella's face at such an obscene suggestion.
The moment Marcus heard this, his struggle intensified. "How dare you!" He spat out defiantly.
A brutal kick landed on Marcus as the thug sneered, "Hahaha! Just wait, you'll see how much fun we'll have."
The taller one joined in the mockery, reaching for Isabella's collar. She tried to block him, but it was useless; her shirt ripped apart with a loud tear.
The sound made Marcus's veins bulge with fury. “Bastards!” He roared.
With a determined twist, he caught the shorter thug by the ankle and yanked hard, sending him crashing to the ground with a painful yelp.
Immediately, Marcus scrambled to Isabella, throwing himself in front of her, determined to protect her at all costs.
But as he enfolded her in his arms, the knife in the taller thug's hand plunged deep into his flesh.
Isabella, so close, could hear the sickening sound of the blade cutting through his skin and muscle, freezing her heart.
“Thought you could put up a fight, huh? Not afraid to die, I guess...” The taller thug’s voice dripped with disdain as he yanked the knife out, splattering blood everywhere.
Droplets of Marcus’s blood dotted Isabella's face, a ghastly sight amidst the chaos.
The shorter thug regained his footing, spat on the ground with contempt, and gripped his knife with renewed anger. “Son of a... you almost gave me a concussion!!”
He raised the knife up high.
Marcus was drained now, but there was one thing he remembered - to shield Isabella with everything he had left. His body became a fortress, their last line of defense.
Isabella's pupils narrowed as she watched the shorter assailant raise the sharp, gleaming knife and thrust it toward Marcus.
No, she couldn't let Marcus get hurt again; another blow could kill him.
In that heartbeat of urgency, Isabella summoned all her strength to shove Marcus aside. She spun around, placing herself between him and the knife.
She would take the blade for him. As repayment for his kindness, his love, his protective embrace, and his selfless courage.
He had told her to run while he had stayed to confront two knife-wielding menaces. The peril was immeasurable.
Marcus could hardly move, but his mind was crystal clear.
When Isabella stood between him and danger, he bellowed, "What are you doing? Why aren't you running?"
"How can I leave you here alone?" She shot back.
"Great, now we're both trapped. How does that make any sense? If one of us escaped, there was still hope—one of us could have lived on!"
Isabella met his gaze; her eyes even more resolute than his.
They locked eyes for a moment.
Marcus looked at her and unexpectedly laughed.
He would've sacrificed his life to protect her, and when push came to shove, she stood before him without a thought for her own safety.
If... if they were really about to die together, then at least his wish would be fulfilled.
To die with her.
Though Isabella had bravely positioned herself in front of Marcus, she was inwardly afraid—terrified of the pain a knife would bring and how it would spill her blood and stain her clothes red.
Despite her deep-seated fears, she stood protectively in front of Marcus.
But...
The anticipated knife blow never came.
Isabella waited, feeling no pain, and wondered what was happening.
She slowly turned to look behind her.
The tall and the short attacker had vanished into thin air, leaving the narrow alley deserted.
Where did they go?
Why did they disappear?
Puzzled, Isabella extended her gaze into the distance, then suddenly tensed as she noticed a figure at the end of the road.
A man, impeccably dressed in a suit, with a lean silhouette—Sebastian.
"Sebastian," she murmured, "how did you get here?"
Sebastian stood at the end of the alley, watching her with an indifferent yet complex gaze.
Just as Isabella was about to say more, Marcus's strength gave out, and he slid down the wall, collapsing to the ground.
She snapped her attention back to him, completely drawn away from Sebastian at the corner.
Panic-stricken, she asked, "What's wrong with you? Hold on just a little longer; I’m calling an ambulance right now!"
But Marcus was too heavy for Isabella to support.
Despite her desperate efforts, she couldn't keep him on his feet.
He slumped in the corner; his head tilted to one side, and his shirt soaked through with blood.
Tears welling up in her eyes, Isabella pleaded, "Marcus, don't close your eyes! Look at me; stay awake... I’m calling for help right now!"
In a panic, she scrambled for her phone only to realize her purse was nowhere in sight.
Glancing around, she spotted it lying in a corner, a good distance away. Without hesitation, Isabella crawled over, grabbed her bag, and with trembling hands, dug her phone out.
Her hands were covered in Marcus's blood, staining her phone and purse.
"You're gonna be okay; you gotta be," Isabella murmured as she dialed, "This knife... it didn't hit anything vital, right? You can make it." She raised her voice, "Marcus, you hear me? You're going to be fine!"
Marcus was weak; his lips were pale and drained of all color, almost translucent.
Yet, there was a continuous smile on his lips.
"Isabella... you're worried about me," he observed, his eyes watching her as she attempted to remain composed, relaying their location over the phone, "You're finally not avoiding me."
"Save your strength; don't talk," Isabella wept as tears cascaded down her cheeks, "I won't allow anything to happen to you. You hear me?"
Marcus's appearance was terrifying.
Blood-soaked and ashen-faced...
"The ambulance is on its way," Isabella said, tossing her phone aside and looking helplessly at Marcus, not knowing what she could possibly do, "Just hang in there."
"It's okay, I'm okay..." he reassured her, "Don't be scared."
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