"Based on where she aimed the knife," he raised his hand, gripping the dagger, and said to Isabella, "right at the center of your heart... she really intended to kill you."
As he spoke, he lifted his hand and pulled the knife out.
Isabella groaned, and a cold sweat slowly appeared on her face.
"Sir."
Elaine had already approached with the medical kit.
James Mason turned around, took some hemostatic powder from the kit, and poured it onto Isabella's bleeding wound. The wound wasn't large, barely half a centimeter, but its location was dangerous—centered on the heart—no doctor on earth could save her if it had been a direct hit.
If not for Isabella's congenital anomaly, with her heart located on the other side, she would be dead right now.
Once the bleeding stopped, James Mason withdrew his hand. He looked at his friend's face and asked, "Do you need a doctor to check you out?"
"No need."
Isabella looked down at her bloody chest, frowning, "I'm not that delicate."
