Devoted Love:The Billionaire's Precious Wife
Chapter 457

Chapter 457: Chapter 457

They were, in all likelihood, not going to make it to the plane.

"Come on." Clark had no time for lengthy discussions.

Grabbing each other by the arm, they had barely made it out the door when a knife came slashing down. With a swift kick, he sent the knife-wielding assailant sprawling and urged them towards the plane.

Blood stained his arm, and his clothes were already soaked in crimson.

Taylor was in tears, and Logan found a bitter taste in his mouth. If it weren’t for Carol, this young man wouldn’t be risking his life to protect them.

He was indeed in love with Carol—so deeply that it extended to those she cared about.

The goons from Romeo were badly injured, but seeing Clark trying to escort the elderly couple to the plane, they gritted their teeth, rose from the ground, and fought to protect them.

Taylor looked at the carnage, unable to comprehend who her daughter had crossed. It was terrifying.

They were still some distance from the plane, and Romeo’s men, already injured, were dropping like flies. Soon, a dozen or so attackers were rushing towards Clark.

One of them drew a knife on Taylor.

They didn’t want to kill them, but to trap them so they could be taken back to face their fate.

Seeing the threat to Taylor, Clark pulled her to his side. A knife came down on his shoulder, making him gasp in pain.

"Clark!" Taylor was terrified. The young man was clearly in agony but was still hanging on.

Logan saw another attacker aiming for Clark and pushed him away with all his strength, oblivious to the danger behind him. He was kicked to the ground.

"Logan!" Taylor wanted to help him, but more attackers were coming. She closed her eyes in fear.

Clark pulled Taylor aside, evading several knives, kicked away the attacker going for Mr. Earwood, and then shoved both Taylor and Mr. Earwood behind him.

"Run!" he shouted.

Left alone to face the two dozen attackers, Clark knew he might not make it out alive.

Thankfully, his sister had yet to return. Otherwise, he would be filled with guilt for the rest of his life.

He wondered what treats she might bring him and whether he’d have the chance to enjoy them.

Taylor was frozen in place. Clark was clearly no match for the attackers, especially injured as he was. His blood stained the grass beneath him, making him look like a tragic hero.

"Go!" Logan knew that they would only hinder Clark if they stayed. With a tug, he got Taylor moving.

"Clark will find a way. He loves Carol. He will find a way to survive."

"Clark!" Taylor cried out in pain, tears blurring her vision. "You have to protect yourself. We’re waiting for you to celebrate your wedding. You have to live!"

Hearing this, Clark broke into a smile—both charming and enigmatic.

Did this mean he had the approval of his future in-laws?

If so, he could die without any regrets.

"Run!" Logan urged, pulling Taylor along.

Glancing back, Taylor saw a dozen attackers rushing at Clark. A silver flash and a knife sliced open Clark’s back, leaving a stark trail of blood.

As Clark staggered under the pain, more fists and blades were aimed at him.

"Clark!" Taylor could run no further. She couldn’t let Clark sacrifice himself for them. How could she live with that for the rest of her life?

Just then, the urgent roar of an engine was heard closing in.

The girl behind the wheel was as cool as ice, her delicate face betraying no sign of panic.

The car circled the mob of men in black at an alarming speed, picking off all but one.

Rosemary, having emptied her firearm, discarded it and exited the car, helping Clark to his feet.

"You alright?"

Clark glanced at his sister, suddenly alarmed.

"Didn’t I tell you to come back later?"

No sooner had he spoken, a fleet of cars was seen approaching—a fresh wave of black-clad men.

"You take care of Logan and Taylor. Get out of here."

Did they dare to harm Clark?

Rosemary lifted her gaze towards the approaching vehicles, her eyes cold as ice.

None of these men would be leaving!

Without another word, Clark guided Logan and Taylor up a flight of stairs.

Meanwhile, Romeo had sent additional reinforcements, tipping the balance in their favor.

Clark saw the elderly couple onto a plane. Taylor, clinging onto his hand, implored:

"Let’s go together."

"I need to find Carol first, and you go on ahead." Clark knew Taylor was worried about him and his sister. He flashed a charming smile, reassuring her, "We’ll be fine, don’t worry."

"But your injuries..."

"I’ll get them bandaged up in a bit. I need to help Rose first. I’ll be in touch."

Clark signaled for the people inside to close the door.

Taylor pounded on the door, watching Clark’s retreating figure, once again crying out:

"Be careful, Clark, always be careful."

Ten minutes later.

Rosemary and Romeo’s men had finally dealt with this wave of enemies. Looking at the dozens of bodies strewn around, Rosemary felt a sense of relief. It was lucky she had returned. Otherwise, who knew what would have happened if she continued to run after Grandpa Arno.

Just then, a plane descended from the sky.

"Ms. Rose, Mr. McMillian has prepared another plane for you, heading directly for the triangular zone," a bodyguard respectfully informed. "Please follow me. We also have a first aid kit on board to assist Clark."

Rosemary, supporting the bloody figure beside her, asked, "Can you walk?"

"I’m fine, it’s just a scratch."

Clark winced as he accidentally pulled at his wound.

Rosemary smirked, "Too bad Carol didn’t get to see that."

"We couldn’t let her see that. It would upset her." Clark winced again as the cold wind whipped at his wound.

The pain was excruciating.

It reminded him of what Jack had once said—how much pain must Rosemary have endured when she faced those dangers alone?

How did she bear it?

Rosemary helped Clark onto the elevator.

"Ms. Rose, here are the snacks you asked me to get." Jerry arrived, panting heavily, carrying an assortment of treats.

Rosemary took them, thanked him, and guided Clark onto the plane.

"You had someone get food for me?" Clark was surprised.

"Weren’t you hungry, Clark?"

Clark was at a loss for words. He had wanted to delay Rosemary’s return, but she had sent someone else to fetch food.

It made sense.

What could he say to his sister?

On the plane.

Rosemary tended to Clark’s wounds. Each gash was a shocking sight.

Who knew Clark could endure so much? Any other person would have been immobilized with pain after a couple of these wounds.

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