Bowen desperately pressed the blade down harder against his wrist.
Blood poured out faster from the wound, and his face grew deathly pale from the loss. A frantic pounding shook the bedroom door violently. Julian's worried voice called through the wood.
"Serenity, should I come in there and help you with him?"
Serenity snapped back without hesitation.
"Do not bother with this. I have got it completely under control."
She took a sharp breath, grabbed her phone from the vanity, and punched in three numbers deliberately.
Bowen's grip on the blade faltered noticeably, a desperate hope flickering in his chest despite everything. His voice trembled as he begged her.
"You are calling an ambulance for me, right? So you do still care about me after all? You do not actually want me to die?"
