Chapter 203 Rising Doubts
Victor and Lana’s voices kept wafting into Trent’s ears; every single syble was either another demand for recements or a pointed reproach.
A heavy irritation pressed against Trent’s chest, and Sidonie sat right beside him without speaking a single word in his defense.
When he had been with Quinn, no one had ever dared to scold him or pester him for gifts.
On the contrary, it had always been his own mother, Penelope, and his sister, Jacinda, who found fault with Quinn and expected her to handle every little chore for them.
Trent suddenly froze, a question shing through his mind: <i>Back </i><i>then</i><i>, </i><i>did </i><i>I </i><i>ever </i><i>defend </i><i>Quinn </i><i>at </i><i>all</i><i>? </i><i>It </i><i>seems </i><i>I </i><i>simply </i><i>kept </i>my <i>mouth </i><i>shut</i><i>, </i><i>just </i><i>like </i><i>Sidonie </i><i>is </i><i>doing </i><i>now</i>.
He had even grumbled whenever Quinn balked at their demands, using her of being inconsiderate- <i>You’re </i><i>already </i><i>married </i><i>to </i><i>me</i><i>, </i>so <i>why </i><i>won’t </i><i>you </i><i>do </i><i>a </i><i>little </i><i>more </i><i>for </i><i>my </i><i>mother </i><i>and </i><i>sister</i><i>? </i>
The weight of those memories settled on his lungs until he could scarcely draw a full breath.
Once they reached the hotel, Trent escorted Victor and Lana to their room, then apanied Sidonie to hers<b>. </b>
No sooner had they stepped inside than Sidonie clung to him, panic threading through her voice. “Trent, what am I going to do? I’m finished. Those reporters–who knows what kind of garbage they’ll print next? It’s all that kidnapper’s fault, and Quinn’s. I bet the two of them are in cahoots, out to destroy me on purpose!”
“There’s no evidence the kidnapper and Quinn conspired,” Trent answered quietly. “Give it time; once this storm blows over, no one will be watching anymore.”
“But what about my career? If Deepport City really takes back my Firefighting Hero title, Nimbus Air will cancel my contract. All these years of hard work will have been for nothing!” Sidonie ground her teeth in fury.
“Honestly, if you’d rified your coworker’s death from the start, none of this might be happening. It was dangerous back then; even if you couldn’t save him-”
Sidonie shoved him so hard he staggered. “What, you want to defend that kidnapper now? nning to use me like everyone else?”
“No, that’s not what I mean! I just think that if you’d exined yourself earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have earned the Firefighting Hero’s title, but things wouldn’t be this disastrous either,” Trent blurted, trying to calm her.
“What did I do wrong? <b>I </b>saved myself, so of course I deserved that title. As for the man I didn’t rescue—he was unlucky, that’s all. The mes were too fierce for me to pull him out. How is that my fault? I’m not guilty of anything! I only failed to save someone; I didn’tmit a crime!” she muttered again and again, as though chanting a mantra.
A flicker of disappointment shed in Trent’s eyes.
The woman he had once ced on a heroic pedestal no longer matched the figure within his imagination.
“Trent!” Sidonie seized him with sudden desperation. “You’ll stand by me, won’t you?”
Chapter 203 Rising Doubts
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Lowering his gaze, Trent felt her fingers mp onto his wrist like iron manacles. “Yes, I’ll stand by you. You dragged me back from death’s doorstep; how could I not?”
Her body stiffened, and then she forced a smile. “Right. I saved you back then, so of course you’ll side with me. You’re no ingrate–that’s why I love you.”
Trent fell silent, sensing that something between them was quietly, irrevocably changing.
Inside the study, a bodyguard ced a thick stack of documents on Julius’s desk.
“Mr. Whitethorn, this <b>is </b>the information you asked for,” the guard said.
“All right, you may go,” Julius dismissed him.
Only after the guard had left did Julius begin leafing through the file.
Tucked among the pages were numerous photographs; had Quinn been here, she would have recognized the man in every single shot at a nce–her brother, Rowan Bridger.
Julius studied the photographs in his hands with painstaking care, and the moment his gaze fell upon one particr picture, his entire expression shifted in a sharp, unmistakable jolt.
His long, elegant fingers, almost trembling, lifted that single photograph.
The image showed Rowan bare–chested, and on Rowan’s shouldery a hideous scar that shed across the skin like a jagged brand.
That scar looked uncannily like the one Julius remembered.
<i>So </i><i>back </i><i>then</i>, <i>the </i><i>man </i>I <i>ran </i><i>into </i><i>really </i><i>might </i><i>have </i><i>been </i><i>Rowan</i><i>–</i><i>the </i><i>very </i><i>brother </i><i>Quinn </i><i>has </i><i>been </i><i>searching </i><i>for </i><i>all </i><i>this </i><i>time</i><i>, </i><i>and </i><i>if </i><i>that’s </i><i>true</i><i>, </i><i>then</i><i>… </i>
A sudden, crushing tightness seized his chest; for an instant, he felt as though he could not breathe.
<i>If </i><i>Quinn </i><i>finds </i><i>out</i><i>, </i>will <i>she </i><i>me </i><i>me</i><i>? </i><i>Or</i><i>… </i><i>will </i><i>she </i><i>leave </i><i>me </i><i>forever</i>? <i>No</i><i>, </i><i>that </i><i>cannot </i><i>happen</i><i>! </i><i>The </i>possibility <i>of </i><i>Quinn </i><i>walking </i><i>away </i><i>is </i><i>something </i><i>I </i><i>don’t </i><i>even </i><i>dare </i><i>imagine</i><i>! </i>
Just then, two soft knocks sounded on the study door.
Startled, Julius snapped, “Who’s there?”
“It’s me.” Quinn pushed the door open and stepped into the study.
All colors drained from Julius’s face; on reflex, he reached for the photos and documents beside him, intending to shove everything into the drawer.
Yet his fingers seemed to revolt, and instead he knocked the entire pile to the floor.
In a heartbeat, photographs and papers sprawled in every direction.