Chapter 310 Rumors And Shadows
The man snatched the money and shrugged. “It happened five years ago. Who cares about some difier?‘ Most wanderers around here break out of those privatepounds nearby. If he didn’t die then<b>, </b><b>he </b>was probably dragged back inter. Five years on–dead either way, I’d bet.”
Quinn’s stomach dropped. She knew too well what thosepounds were for.
They were dens for every crime thew had no reach to touch, ces where an ordinary person would <b>be </b>tortured until body and spirit frayed.
<i>Could </i>Rowan have <i>escaped </i><i>from </i><i>one </i><i>of </i><i>thos</i>
<i>e </i><i>hellholes</i>? <i>Was </i><i>his </i>weakness <i>because </i>of the <i>torment </i>he endured<i>? </i>
They questioned more locals; the answers differed little, each one another stone sinking in Quinn’s chest. On the ride back, Quinn said, “I’m going to find a way inside the nearestpound and see for myself.”
“That’s far too dangerous,” Han shot back. “We’re not in Glusia–those grounds are awless frontier<i>. </i>
Quinn thought a beat. “Then we try the Regal Ace Casino. It’s controlled by the same syndicates. Staff might know something.”
“Fine,” Han said. “We’ll go together tomorrow.”
Quinn hesitated, worry flickering behind her eyes.
Han tilted his head. “Something else tomorrow?”
“Part of my funds are still tied up back home. They might not clear in Doria by morning,” she admitted.
Han waved the concern away. “Forget the money. I’ve got it covered. Get some rest tonight- tomorrow’s casino run will drain us enough.”
Quinn gave a small, rueful smile. “Feels like the debts I owe you keep piling up.”
Han chuckled softly. “Debts? Back in the unit, I owed you more. If you hadn’t carried me to the hospital through that blizzard, my fever would’ve cooked my brain.”
From that frozen night onward, the walls around his heart had begun to thaw, brick by brick, until he finally understood what he felt for her.
He prayed–silently, stubbornly–that this time he wouldn’t let her slip through his fingers again.
The car door closed with a muffled thud, sealing Quinn and Han inside a cocoon of dim leather and faint cologne. Outside, Riverpoint’s nightscape slid by–fluorescent shop signs, wet asphalt, and sodiummps painting restless streaks across the windows. Minutester, they strolled beneath the gilt canopy of the hotel. Dinner was quiet–clinking cutlery, low jazz, their voices kept deliberately soft. When thest dish had been cleared, they rode the elevator up, the hush between them thick as velvet, until the doors parted on their floor.
“Han,e by my room for a moment. There’s something we need to discuss.” She murmured the invitation while opening her room door, warmmplight spilling over the hallway carpet like melted gold.
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<b>Chapter </b><b>310 </b><b>Rumors </b>And <b>Shadows </b>
<b>“</b><b>All </b><b>right</b><b>,</b><b>” </b>Han said<b>, </b>his tone <b>casual </b>yet attentive. He followed <b>Quinn </b><b>across </b>the <b>threshold</b>, the son cit <b>of </b><b>the </b>door closing behind them sounding almost ceremonial.
Julius lounged in the surveince suite several floors below, a leather chair framing him <b>like </b><b>a </b><b>throne </b>Rows of monitors washed his sharp features in an icy glow, each screen capturing some <b>anonymous </b>slice of corridor life.
When he saw Quinn and Han disappear into the same room, the fingers resting on his knees <b>curled </b>inward as though trying to crush something invisible.
“Mr. Whitethorn, Mr. Ingram and Ms. Bridger booked separate rooms. They’re probably just talking business–he’ll be out any minute,” Fabian offered, words tumbling over themselves in haste<b>. </b>He <b>kept </b><b>his </b>gaze on Julius‘ storm–dark profile, praying the exnation wouldnd.
“Is that so?” Julius’s eyes never left the feed, his voice as thin and sharp as a razor edge.
<i>Will </i>he truly emerge <i>in </i><i>just </i>a moment? And <i>if </i><i>he </i><i>doesn’t</i><i>–</i><i>if </i><i>Han </i><i>chooses </i><i>to </i><i>stay </i><i>the </i>night<i>? </i><i>If </i>she gives <b><i>herself </i></b>to <b>him </b><i>tonight</i>…
Thinking of that possibility, he stared at the screen, his blood turning <i>to </i>ice.
The seconds crawled by, each digital blink of the timestamp sounding like a hammer blow inside Julius skull.
The air pressure inside the monitoring room sank to something almost suffocating, as though the walls themselves feared to breathe.
Fabian sat rigid, watching his boss‘ face darken by degrees, silently begging the elevator gods to deliver Han back into the hallway.
If Han actually spent the night in Quinn’s room, Fabian suspected Julius might very well lose his mind.
More than an hourter, the door finally opened. Han stepped into the corridor, then leaned back inside, saying something inaudible. A slender hand rose from the darkness and curled around his neck.
The camera couldn’t prate the room itself; only Han’s torso remained visible, the rest swallowed by shadow, and Quinn herself hidden just beyond the threshold.
From this angle, the posture looked unmistakably intimate–almost, Julius thought with a spike of nausea, like a kiss.
Fabian’s heart lurched. <i>If </i><i>Ms. </i><i>Bridger </i><i>truly </i><i>was </i><i>kissing </i><i>Mr. </i><i>Ingram</i><i>, then</i><i>… </i>
His nce flicked toward Julius, who was already on his feet.
Julius stared at the screen, lips pressed into a colorless line, phoenix eyes glittering with a dangerous, jealous sheen that bordered on madness.
“It’s just a mosquito bite. Take this soothing balm and dab some onter–bugs are relentless this time of night,” Quinn said, smoothing the cor of Han’s shirt with practiced ease.
Moments earlier she had noticed a patch of irritated skin on his neck and stopped him to inspect it.
“All right. Get some rest,” Han replied, warmth flickering behind his casual smile.
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<b>Chapter </b><b>310 </b><b>Rumors </b>And <b>Shadows </b>
“You too,” she answered softly. “Try to sleep early?
<b>After </b>closing the door, Quinn drifted into the bathroom. She stared at her reflection <b>above </b>the porcin <b>sink </b>and drew a long, steadying breath.
Tomorrow, she would test her luck at the Regal Ace Casino, hoping for any thread that might lead to
<b>Rowan</b>.
If that failed, her next move would be to infiltrate the casino’s and industrial park’sputer systems<b>, </b>scraping for anything useful.
For now, those options were all she had.
She was about to wash up when the doorbell chimed, sharp and unexpected.
Quinn lingered beside the shut hotel door, one hand hovering over the handle. <i>Did </i>Han forget something?
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