Tristan instinctively rushed to my side, attempting to help me up. He yelled, "Why didn't you dodge? Don't think I'll feel sorry for you just because you're injured and playing the victim!"

He raised his sleeve to wipe the blood from my temple, but it continued to flow out like sand from a punctured bag. I raised my hand and forcefully pushed him away, then braced myself against the floor and struggled toward the door.

Tristan was visibly panicked as he shouted after me, "Where do you think you're going? Why are you being so stubborn at a time like this? You need to get that wound treated at a hospital!"

He spoke while moving to catch up to me, and just as he was about to grab me, the woman behind him pulled him back and whimpered, "Professor Barnes, my stomach really hurts..."

Yasmin collapsed at Tristan's feet, clutching her belly. "Please take me to the hospital. I don't want anything to happen to our baby..."

Tristan only hesitated for a few seconds before he carried Yasmin up and rushed past me. He shouted, "Yas is at a critical stage in her pregnancy, so I have to prioritize her! Make sure you go to the hospital to get that wound dressed!

"Don't make me worry! I'll find you as soon as I take care of this!"

Soon, they both disappeared from my sight. I pushed Victoria's stroller to the roadside and hailed a cab. "To the National Academy of Sciences."

The driver handed me some tissues after noticing my wound and studied me through the rearview mirror. "Miss, why are you going to the Academy instead of a hospital with that injury? Not just anyone can get in there."

I gazed out the window as the warm air blew through the crack, then replied calmly, "That's my home."

...

Upon arriving at the Academy, I passed through multiple security checkpoints with facial recognition and took the elevator to the top floor. I knocked on the door of the last office in the hallway and entered.

"Rowan, I'm back," I announced.

Rowan Baldwin, the middle-aged man behind the desk, stood up and walked toward me. He reached out to place his hand on my shoulder, but stopped mid-air when he noticed the wound on my temple.

He asked, "Did he do this?"

I didn't reply, but my silence was answer enough.

Rowan sighed heavily before turning to retrieve a document envelope from his drawer. He explained, "I've already arranged everything for the project you mentioned, and my wife, Melanie, has set everything up for you on the other end. Your plane ticket is in the envelope, but..."

He glanced at Victoria, who was sleeping peacefully in her stroller, and gently caressed her face. "Why won't you let me deal with that punk? Are you still in love with him?"

I took out the plane ticket from the envelope. In five hours, I would leave this country and begin a new life.

I replied, "No. Rowan, you've got it wrong. I'll use my own methods to ensure he never recovers from what's coming."