Seeing his shirt was soaked with blood, Nicole expected anger from Jarrod. Unexpectedly, he just stood up and hurried to the bathroom.

Emerging from the bathroom, Jarrod carefully moved Nicole into the bathtub.

As he began to remove her clothing, Nicole momentarily froze before pushing his hands away.

Jarrod embraced her tightly, trying to soothe her, “Stay still.

You're in no state to do this alone. Let me help you clean up."

Nicole, however, resisted, adamant in her refusal.

"I don't want your help," she said, her voice tinged with revulsion.

In her eyes, Jarrod was nothing more than a womanizer.

Despite her protests, Jarrod seemed unfazed.

Jarrod wouldn't stop what he was going to do, even if she hated it.

His resolve was unshaken, be it having sex with her, sharing a bath, or the prospect of starting a family together.

His tone was icy as he issued a warning, “If you don't stop struggling, I'll do it right now."

“How can you be so vile?" Nicole retorted, her disgust palpable.

Ignoring her protest, Jarrod proceeded to undress her and lower her into the water.

His grip was firm as he said bluntly, “We've had sex before. And you feel sick at me now?"

Nicole's cheeks flushed as Jarrod washed her without a hint of emotion.

Then, Jarrod refilled the tub until the water was pristine.

Despite the scars that marred his back which was a testament to his challenging life abroad, Jarrod's hands remained well-cared for.

His fingers were slender, his nails immaculate, lending a certain elegance to his hands, much like his handsome face.

Yet, when he touched her, Nicole could feel the hardness of calluses against her skin, a stark reminder of his roughness.