Chapter 338 Crossfire Night
Chapter 338 Crossfire Night
Quinn flung the door open and slid out, crouching low behind a rusted <b>guardrail </b>before sprinting toward the gunshots, every movement economical, lethal, swift.
Han followed at her heels, matching her rhythm without a wasted breath.
Still moving, Quinn hissed, “Keep your head. The second this turns uglier than we can handle, fall back to cover–no debate.”
“Understood.”
Yet Han knew the truth. If danger erupted, his first and only priority would be her safety, no matter the cost.
Even if she had once been his captain–even if it meant disobeying her direct order.
The soundtrack of gunfire intensified, sporadic pops turning into a brutal, stato drumroll.
When Quinn skidded to a halt, bodies already littered the cracked asphalt–some in police blues, others in the street clothes of desperate men.
Only one pattern was clear: four kidnappers were closing in on Leander.
Serena cowered behind her brother, hair disheveled, terror stered across her face like wet paint.
“Leander, you can’t abandon me! Remember–I’m the real blood of the Fane family!” Serena shrieked, fingers digging into his arm.
Leander’s brow knotted, frustration ring behind his measured stare.
Moments earlier, had Serena not provoked the gunmen with her reckless mouth, police and family could have slipped her out clean.
Instead, she’d spun the night toward chaos, turning a surgical rescue into a bar- room brawl with bullets.
Now the kidnappers were feral, their logic drowned beneath adrenaline and fear.
16:51 “Sat. 23 Aug 5
Chapter 338 Crossfire Night
Leander counted four gunmen; he held only one pistol, and failure was not an option–he could not die tonight.
If he fell, Lena would lose the Fane fortune’s backing, and her chance at life–<b>saving </b>treatment would evaporate.
The kidnappers pressed closer. Backup sirens were nowhere in earshot. Leander’s pulse hammered in his temples.
Two kidnappers jerked as unseen rounds punched into them. They copsed, groaning, before their weapons ttered uselessly on the pavement.
Leander blinked, spotting Quinn and Han. “How did you-”
“Talkter. Move now,” Quinn ordered.
Another volley erupted. Quinn and Han answered in seamless tandem, muzzle shes strobing their faces. Serena, wild–eyed, yanked Leander’s arm. “You have to protect me! If I go down, Lena goes with me!”
“Let go of my hand first. If you keep holding on like this—”
“Lena and I are a half–match for stem cells, and I can still donate to save her, provided nothing happens to me.”
7
“What?” Leander’s voice cracked with disbelief.
A primal jolt of danger stabbed through Leander. In the corner of his eye, he caught a kidnapper pivoting, the barrel shing toward him.
At that exact second, Serena still clung to his arm holding the gun with desperat strength.
Leander wrenched the weapon into his left hand, fired on instinct, while the other man’s bullet was already screaming back toward them.
There was no time left to dodge.
Yet one truth overrode everything. Serena could not be hurt.
He folded her against his chest, determined to take the round himself.
16:51 Sat, 23 Aug
Chapter 338 Crossfire Night
But the expected impact never came. Instead, a man’s voice split the chaos<b>, </b>raw with terror. “Quinnie!”
In that heartbeat, Leander spun around, sudden dread flooding his veins.
Quinn stood between him and the gunman, her white shirt blooming crimson at the shoulder like a dark rose.
She had taken the bullet for him.
Why? <i>Helping </i><i>a </i><i>stranger </i>is <i>mercy </i><i>enough</i><i>; </i><i>if </i><i>she </i><i>thought </i><i>I </i><i>might </i><i>be </i><i>her </i><i>brother</i><i>, </i>it’s already <i>more </i><i>than </i><i>enough </i><i>that </i><i>she </i><i>came </i><i>to </i><i>help </i><i>me</i><i>. </i>
Yet she chose flesh and blood over fear, as though her own life meant less than his. Did it <i>never </i><i>ur </i><i>to </i><i>her </i><i>that </i><i>one </i><i>bullet </i><i>could </i><i>take </i><i>her </i><i>life</i><i>? </i>
Han dispatched thest kidnapper, then vaulted to Quinn’s side, barely catching her before she copsed. Breathing hard, he ripped off his tie and pressed it against the wound, voice shaking. “I’m getting you to a hospital now.”
Quinn’s face turned chalk–white; beads of sweat rolled from her brow as she fought the pain.
“Why?” Leander whispered, the words torn from somece raw. “Why throw yourself in front of me?”
Drawing a shallow breath, Quinn looked at him–safe, whole–and managed a fragile smile.
<i>Thank </i><i>goodness</i>, <i>Rowan </i><i>is </i><i>safe</i><i>! </i>
“Because… you are Rowan,” she said, voice thin but steady. “You’re the only family I have left. Years ago<i>, </i>you were wounded protecting me. Today I repay that debt with my own <i>body</i>.”
They were brother and sister.
Bound by blood, by love too fierce for reason.
A sudden, blinding ache knifed through Leander’s skull.