Chapter <b>294 </b>Collision At The Restaurant
Chapter 294 Collision At The Restaurant
Julius stepped out of the dim corridor and crossed the dining room in silentmand, each stride unhurried yet unquestionable. The people behind him shuffled after him, flustered.
He halted at Quinn’s table, the light gleaming off his cuff links. “Last night you celebrated my birthday<b>. </b>Tonight, you share a meal with someone else?”
Han rose so fast his chair scraped the polished floor, cing his body squarely between Quinn and Julius. “She can spend time with whomever she wants,” he said, shoulders tense, “You have no say in <b>it</b>.”
Julius‘ eyes narrowed, ice over dark water. “No say?”
Han refused to flinch. “You two broke up.”
Julius ignored him, gaze sliding past to Quinn. “Break up? I never agreed to that.”
The entourage behind Julius nched, as though suddenly remembering they were hearing words <b>meant </b>for no audience.
Whispers of Julius dating a woman had drifted through Jexburgh’s circles from Yarburn, yet most dismissed them. Julius, after all, was famous for keeping women at a distance.
“That doesn’t matter,” Han shot back. “Quinnie ended it. That settles it.”
Silence thickened. Beads of sweat dotted the foreheads of the people behind Julius.
Mr. <i>Whitethorn </i><i>is </i><i>up </i><i>against </i><i>Jexburgh’s </i><i>tyrant</i><i>–</i><i>and </i><i>the </i><i>woman </i><i>caught </i><i>between </i><i>them </i><i>seems </i><i>to </i><i>be </i><i>Mr. </i><i>Ingram’s </i>older <i>sister</i><i>. </i><i>But </i>isn’t Mr. <i>Ingram </i><i>an </i><i>only </i><i>child</i><i>? </i>
Julius gave a small, cuttingugh. “So she leaves me for you? Stop dreaming, Han.”
Han froze. <i>I </i><i>never </i><i>told </i><i>Quinnie </i>how <i>I </i><i>felt</i><i>–</i><i>always </i><i>one </i><i>step </i>too <ite</i>. <i>Now </i><i>that </i><i>she’s </i><i>free </i><i>of </i><i>him</i>, I <i>was </i><i>waiting </i><i>for </i><i>the </i><i>right </i><i>moment</i>. <i>And </i><i>Julius </i><i>has </i><i>just </i><i>ripped </i><i>the </i>cover <i>off </i><i>my </i><i>secret</i>.
Han’s restraint snapped. He swung a fist<b>. </b>
Julius parried and answered in kind.
In seconds, the restaurant erupted into the crack of knuckles against bone, tables shaking as patrons shrank back. No one dared intervene; both men were legends for very different kinds of danger.
Quinn rushed forward. She shoved Han’s arm aside, spun, and nted her back against his chest while catching Julius‘ iing punch with her own hand. “Enough. This is not the ce.”
Julius stared at the protective angle of her shoulders, jealousy flickering in his eyes. “You’re really shielding him? He struck first.”
“He’s my friend,” Quinn answered, grip still firm on Julius‘ wrist. “Whatever lies between you and me, leave my friends out of it.“.
“Friend?” Julius’s mouth curved into a razor–thin smile. In a single fluid motion, he bent, his breath grazing Quinn’s ear as he whispered, “So he’s only a friend? Remember every word I saidst night.”
<b>1/2 </b>
<b>Chapter 294 </b><b>Collision </b>At The <b>Restaurant </b>
Straightening, he unclenched the fist he had raised a moment earlier. “You <b>don’t </b><b>want </b>me <b>fighting</b>, to T <b>keep </b>my hands to myself. <b>If </b>you need distance, we can <b>give </b>each other time. But <b>breaking </b><b>up</b><b>? </b><b>That </b>Quinn, I <b>will </b>never ept.”
He pivoted toward the men shadowing hiin. “Move.”
<b>“</b><b>Y</b>–Yes, sir!” they sputtered, scrambling after his long strides.
Quinn watched Julius‘ broad shoulders disappear down the corridor. So he <i>won’t </i>agree to break <b><i>up</i></b><b>? </b>
The amicable farewell she had envisioned now seemed impossible. Maybe a cold shoulder was <b>the </b><b>only </b>way; with time, perhaps the rtionship would wither on its own.
“Quinnie, rx,” Han said, his voice low yet steely. “If Julius ever dares to strong–arm you, <b>he’ll </b><b>answer </b>to me.”
“He isn’t the type to force my hand,” she replied, cool but certain. “And I’m not exactly helpless<b>.” </b>
Quinn swept a quick circle with her gaze. “But we might need to find somewhere <b>else </b>for dinner.”
Even after Julius vanished into a private suite, curious staff and diners still craned for a glimpse. <b>Han </b>nodded. “Another spot, then.”
They didn’t return to any polished dining room. Instead, they settled at a roadside vendor where oil <b>hissed </b>on iron griddles and the tang of chili rode the night air.
“This ce reminds me of our breaks back at the unit,” Han said, a half–smile ghosting across his lips. “Whenever we had leave, you and I would eat at roadside vendors.”
Quinnughed softly. “I never expected a silver–spoon scion tost in the barracks, let alone crave street food.”
After all, life inside the regiment was the stark opposite of the glittering world outside; most neers choked on that hardship and quit.
“Nor did I,” Han murmured, his gaze lingering on her profile as though searching for an answer he feared to voice.
<i>I </i><i>never </i><i>expected </i><i>one </i><i>heart </i><i>to </i><i>shake </i><i>me </i>so <ipletely</i><i>, </i><i>nor </i><i>that </i><i>I’d </i><i>arrive </i><i>a </i><i>beat </i><i>too </i><ite</i><i>–</i><i>every </i><i>single </i><i>time</i><i>. </i><i>One </i><i>misstep</i><i>, </i><i>then </i><i>another</i><i>, </i><i>each </i><i>dy </i><i>widening </i><i>the </i><i>gulf </i><i>between </i><i>us</i><i>. </i><b><i>Is </i></b><i>there </i>still <i>room </i><i>for </i><i>me </i>now?
“Forget what Julius said,” Quinn offered, voice gentle yet firm.
“Which part?” Han shot back. “The bit where he told me to stop dreaming about you?” He breathed out sharply. “Well, Quinnie, what if I refuse to stop?”