The Mafia Lord's Secret Lover (Evelyn) novel Chapter 108

“Axel, I smell blood…are you… injured?” 1

Evelyn hurried across the room, not even noticing the cold sting of the marble floor under her bare feet.

All she saw was the blood on his white shirt, and all she felt was panic.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for his arm.

He caught her wrist, gently but firmly, and pulled her closer by the waist.

His eyes softened, but there was amusement lingering in them, like he could already see how frantic she was.

“You know how blood smells? That’s great. But it’s nothing. I’m alright,” he said softly.

Evelyn blinked at him, her lips pressed tight.

He disappears for hours, no calls, no texts, strolls in at midnight, and, surprisingly, smells of blood, covered in it. ‘Nothing, he says.

Her voice cracked, a mix of worry and anger.

“Don’t you dare tell me this is nothing. Axel, there’s blood on your shirt. You’re bleeding!” She pointed at the crimson stain.

He leaned down until his gaze locked with hers, calm and steady, trying to drown out her panic.

“Evelyn. Look at me. I’m fine. Really.”

Her heart twisted.

She hated that tone of his; too steady, too convincing, the kind of voice that could probably persuade Oliver when he didn’t want to eat

his broccoli. She hated it because it worked on her, too.

But not tonight.

“Fine?” she repeated bitterly. “If this is your version of fine, I’d hate to see what dying looks like.”

When he opened his mouth to say something, she spun away.

“Don’t move,” she ordered sharply.

His brow lifted, amused.

“Are you giving me orders now?”

“Yes! Stay there, Axel Knight. If you think you can just walk in here bleeding and charm your way out of it, you’ve married the wrong

woman.”

Evelyn didn’t give him a chance to reply. She stormed into the bathroom, her mind spinning.

She was angry at him and at herself.

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108 Injury

Angry that he hadn’t called. And also angry at herself because she cared so much. She hated it when her chest tightened, thinking of him

getting hurt.

When she returned with the medical kit, Axel was still sitting on the couch, watching her and smiling.

That faint smile remained on his lips, the one that always drove her insane.

Her annoyance melted, though she masked it with a flat expression.

She wasn’t going to let him see how badly her heart had been racing.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Her chest squeezed. Those two words tore right through the shield she was trying so hard to hold up.

She sank beside him, and before she even realized, she had started unbuttoning his shirt. One. Two. Three. Four.

Their eyes locked.

“I won’t make you worry again. I promise,” he whispered.

Her hand froze on the fourth button.

Her throat tightened.

“C–Can you… Just take it off? I need to clean the wound.”

His lips curved.

“You already started. Why stop now?”

“Axel…” she groaned, trying not to blush.

“Alright,” he chuckled, and took off the shirt with one smooth motion. The shirt hit the floor in a second.

Evelyn’s mind freezes as she sees him half–naked and close, his warm skin, tense muscles, and broad shoulders overwhelming her.

Focus, Eve. Focus! This is not about his abs. Or his chest. Or the way his biceps flex when he moves. This is about the blood. Just the

blood. The injury. Definitely not the abs!

She inhaled sharply, forcing her eyes to the ugly bandage wrapped around his arm. It was haphazard, sloppy, already soaked through.

Her worry flared again, pushing aside the ridiculous flutter in her chest.

“Who did this?” she asked, scissors in hand.

“I did,” he said easily.

She paused to look him in the eyes.

“I knew it. You may be many things, Axel Knight, but a doctor is not one of them. This looks like a raccoon tried to gift–wrap your arm.” 2

He chuckled, unbothered.

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108 Injury

“That’s why I married you. You seem skillful in treating me.”

“Because I learned the skill and the knowledge when I expected Oliver, I know… I need them to help our son. You know, little boys like

him always get injured, right?”

“You are the best mommy.”

“Hmm… I am!” She chuckled.

Then,

Evelyn carefully snipped through the bandage, her hands trembling even as she tried to steady them.

Fresh blood welled up from the gash, and she hissed through her teeth.

“Axel… this isn’t a scratch. It’s a deep wound.”

“It’s nothing-”

“Don’t you dare call this nothing again,” she said, interrupting him. “Scratches don’t look like you picked a fight with a knife.”

“Have you seen many knife fights?” he asked casually.

She froze, then tried to maintain her composure, “That’s not the point!”

Axel chuckled softly, clearly amused by her flustered state.

Evelyn dabbed at the wound with disinfectant, ignoring his wince and ignoring the way her chest clenched at his pain.

‘Don’t think about how close you are. Don’t think about how warm his skin is. Don’t…oh God, please make me focus…

“Hold still,” she muttered, more to herself than to him, as she began wrapping a fresh bandage around his arm. “If you rip this open again,

I swear I’ll duct tape you to the bed.”

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