Chapter 417 Worth Every Drop Of Blood
:
Chapter 417 Worth Every Drop Of Blood
<b>36 </b>
+20 Free Coins
“It’s worth every drop of blood,” Julius said without blinking. “And for the record, she never abandoned me.”
Time and again, when danger closed in around him, Quinn had stayed. She had done so when they were children–and even more fiercely after they grew up.
Gavin scoffed. “She dragged you out of a burning building, yes, but you’d already run into the mes for her. Call it even and be done with the heroics!”
Julius‘ fingers drifted to the sandalwood bracelet on his wrist, thumb brushing the cool jade bead in a familiar, grounding motion.
“Gavin, we can never call it even. The one doing the saving has always been her.”
Gavin’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Julius lowered his gaze. “This life was hers from the moment she gave it back to me. If I spend all of it repaying her, I’ll still fall short.”
Gavin stared, speechless. The rumors were true–when a Whitethorn loved, they loved to madness.
Julius‘ father had been the same–devotion bordering on obsession. Apparently, the legacy had not skipped a generation.
“If you’re willing to die for her,” Gavin muttered, “why have you dodged every attempt she’s made to see you? She’s looked for you more than once.”
Julius‘ eyes narrowed a fraction. “Fabian Wooley told you, didn’t he?”
“Don’t me him,” Gavin said, his voice low but taut. “He just let it slip. You’ve driven yourself to the brink for Quinn–risked everything while your body is falling apart–yet you still refuse to see her. Tell me, Julius, do you truly not want to be with her?”
“That’s right,” Julius answered, tone hard as winter stone. “I don’t want to be with her. Whatever I’ve done for her is my business alone; she never needs to know.”
Gavin’s shoulders went rigid, fury rippled across his face so quickly the fluorescent light seemed to tremble.
If <i>only </i>I <i>could </i>crack <i>open </i>that stubborn skull and see what kind <i>of </i>madness rattles <i>inside</i><i>. </i>
:
Chapter 417 Worth Every Drop Of Blood
Julius snapped his gaze up. “Gavin! This is between Quinn and me. Stay out of it.”
A
<b>36 </b>
+20 Free Coins
The warningnded like a knife. Gavin’s pupils tightened, recognizing the threat coiled beneath Julius‘ calm words.
<i>Can </i>I <i>really </i>stand <i>by </i><i>while </i><i>he </i><i>drags </i><i>that </i><i>failing </i><i>body </i><i>to </i><i>the </i><i>bone</i><i>–</i><i>marrow </i><i>unit</i>?
“Fine,” Gavin said, the words brittle with frost. “I understand.” Turning on his heel, he strode away, coat ring behind him like an angry banner.
Halfway down the corridor, the resolve crystallized. Whatever Julius imed, Gavin would find Quinn and learn exactly where her heart stood.
Rowan was now in far–off Celosia, attending to matters only he could handle. In his absence, the visitor’s chair beside Quinn’s bed belonged almost exclusively to Laura and Everett; they appeared more faithfully than the nurses.
Quinn felt no awkwardness with this newly discovered uncle; perhaps blood recognizes blood long before the mind catches up.
Their first encounter had been jagged–his expression cold as the steel trim of a limousine. Yet the man now seated at her bedside seemed transformed: soft–voiced, schrly, his eyes lingering on her with quiet wonder.
Quinn understood; each time he stared, he was really searching for the faintest echo of his long–lost sister.
“Truth is, I never looked much like Mom,” Quinn said, fingers tracing the hospital nket. “Rowan looks like her; I’m more of Dad’s reflection.”
“But the way you smile,” Everett murmured, warmth tugging at his voice, “is exactly how Yara used to grin when she was little.”
In quiet hours, Quinn painted Yara with small, ordinary colors–stories no dossier could capture. She spoke of lopsided sweaters knitted with love, parent–teacher nights ending in threatened switchings, and a carnival visit where their mother outshot her and her brother andughed until her eyes watered.
None of thisy in the investigative file Everett hadmissioned; paper, after all, rarely records the sound ofughter.
As the tales spilled out, he met a truer Yara than any photograph had shown—wed, impulsive, gloriously alive.
“Once your strength returns,” Everett said, resting a steady hand on the rail, “I’d like you to visit
Chapter 417 Worth Every Drop Of Blood
36
+20 Free Coins
Celosia for a while. Your grandmother has missed your mother every single day. Knowing you and Rowan exist would brighten what remains of her world.”
“I’d love that,” Quinn replied, hope fluttering behind her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to meet her.”
Even without Everett’s invitation, she had mapped the journey in her mind; once her legs obeyed again, Celosia would be her first destination.
She also knew her grandmother’s heart had frayed over years of grief, and that the Fane family’s tireless charity work was really therapy for an old woman’s sorrow.
Besides, during that event in Doria, Margaret had, by sheer chance, pulled Rowan from the jaws of death and forever altered the family’s fate.
Everett’s smile returned. From his coat, he drew a velvet box and lifted out the ruby ne, the stone catching the ward’s pale light like a captured sunset. Heid it gently in Quinn’s palm.