Chapter 260
The moment the man stopped speaking, the air exploded with gunfire. Bullets whizzed past, turning the scene into pure chaos.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Alexander Kingsley fired three precise shots as he retreated, his back hitting the solid cover of a nearby structure. His movements were cold, calculated—two attackers dropped instantly, their bodies crumpling to the ground.
Then, a shadow shifted behind him. Another assassin, knife glinting in the dim light, lunged.
Alexander reacted without hesitation. He spun, slamming his elbow into the man’s throat before pivoting and firing a single, fatal shot.
From inside the car, Isabella Sinclair watched in horror as blood splattered across Alexander’s face, turning him into something terrifying—something lethal. He moved like a man who spoke only one language: violence.
She yanked at the car door, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked from the outside.
Trapped.
But not helpless.
Her eyes locked onto the bomb strapped to the kidnapper’s chest—and the remote in his hand.
A grim determination settled over her.
Fine. If that’s how it’s going to be.
She reached for the delicate chain around her neck, snapping it off with a sharp tug. From the pendant, she retrieved a tiny USB drive and plugged it into her laptop.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard, lines of code flashing across the screen as she hacked into the bomb’s system. Her mind was a storm of focus, every second critical.
Just then, Julian Whitmore arrived, tracking the signal. His sharp eyes took in the scene—the car, the gunfire, the blood.
“Isabella, what the hell is happening?”
“Some hired thugs took Amelia! And Alexander—he’s in trouble!” she shouted through the locked door. “I need you to hold them off. Buy me time. I’m disarming the bomb.”
Julian didn’t hesitate. “Consider it done.”
He never questioned her. Never doubted her. His trust in her was absolute.
Even if he didn’t particularly care for Alexander, Amelia was another matter.
The battlefield was a nightmare of noise and blood. Amid the gunfire, Julian spotted an assassin creeping up behind Alexander, knife raised.
Without a word, Julian lunged, kicking the man to the ground.
“Pathetic,” he sneered, driving his boot into the assassin’s chest. A sickening crack echoed as ribs shattered. Blood spilled from the man’s lips.
Glancing at Alexander, Julian said quickly, “Isabella’s hacking the remote. We just need to hold them off.”
Alexander wiped blood from his face, momentarily stunned by Julian’s sudden appearance. He hadn’t expected him of all people to show up.
And Isabella—trapped in that car, yet still fighting.
But there was no time to dwell on surprises.
Alexander surged forward, his movements sharp, brutal. Every strike was a death sentence. The assassins faltered, their confidence crumbling under his relentless assault.
One of them shouted, “Fall back!”
In seconds, they abandoned their leader—the man in the peaked cap—without a second glance.
Julian moved to chase them, but Alexander grabbed his arm.
“My men have the exits blocked,” Alexander said, his voice rough. He wiped more blood from his face, looking every bit the warrior drenched in battle.
Then his gaze turned to the lone kidnapper—the human bomb left behind.
“Your friends left you to die,” Alexander said, his voice icy. “Let Amelia go, and I might let you live.”
The man let out a deranged laugh. “Spare me? Don’t make me laugh! The Kingsleys will hunt me down no matter what!” His grip tightened around Amelia’s throat. “If you want this girl to live, you die in her place!”
Amelia trembled, tears streaming down her face. The gunfire, the blood—it was all too much. Memories of her father’s death flashed before her eyes, blending with the nightmare unfolding now.
She sobbed, unable to speak.
“Don’t move!” the kidnapper snarled, tightening his hold. He was cornered, desperate. Only two options left—kill Alexander and escape, or die here.
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll count to three, Mr. Kingsley. Let’s see if your bullets are faster than my explosives.”
