Chapter 261
“Three… two…” Alexander’s voice was raw with desperation, his usually composed features twisted in panic. His grip on the gun trembled slightly, but his resolve didn’t waver.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” he ground out, his gaze locked onto the man in the peaked cap. “But you let her go first.”
Even in this life-or-death moment, Alexander’s faith in Isabella never faltered.
His fingers curled around the weapon, steady despite the chaos. He was prepared—prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice if it meant protecting Amelia.
But beneath his grim expression, his mind worked furiously.
Isabella should be ready by now.
The kidnapper’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. “Fine.”
With deliberate slowness, he loosened his grip on Amelia—just enough to give the illusion of compliance.
Then—
A sharp, pained cry shattered the tension.
“Ah! You little—!”
Amelia had bitten down hard on the man’s wrist, her small teeth sinking deep. He recoiled, instinctively releasing her.
She dropped to the ground, scrambling away on hands and knees, her breath coming in frantic gasps.
Faster. Faster.
She couldn’t let Uncle Alexander and Isabella worry about her.
The man’s face darkened with rage. He raised his gun, aiming it at the fleeing child.
“You brat!” he snarled. “I warned you—move again, and I’ll shoot!”
A gunshot cracked through the air.
Alexander lunged forward, shielding Amelia with his body. The bullet struck his shoulder, and he let out a low, pained groan. Blood bloomed across his shirt, staining the fabric crimson.
Amelia trembled in his arms, her wide eyes fixed on the spreading red.
Terrifying memories surged—flashes of another time, another place where blood had meant loss. Her small hands clutched at Alexander’s sleeve, her voice breaking as she whispered,
“Uncle Alexander…”
His breath hitched.
She hadn’t spoken since the kidnapping—not a single word.
But now, she had said his name.
A flicker of warmth cut through the pain, but there was no time to dwell on it.
The kidnapper’s face twisted with fury. He couldn’t believe he’d been outmaneuvered by a child.
“Then we all die!” he spat.
Without hesitation, he slammed his thumb down on the detonator.
Panic erupted.
Screams filled the air as people scrambled for cover.
“Run!”
“Get back!”
“Someone help!”
But Alexander didn’t move.
He couldn’t.
They were too close—he and Amelia. Too close to escape the blast.
If the bomb went off now, survival was impossible.
Yet, as he held Amelia tight, his mind didn’t fixate on death.
Instead, it wandered to Isabella.
The first time they’d met—her sharp wit, the way her eyes had challenged him. The stolen moments in the elevator, the scent of jasmine clinging to her skin. The reckless passion that had consumed them both.
When had he lost control?
Again and again—because of her.
Love had never been something Alexander believed in.
But as those thoughts swirled, the seconds stretched—
And the explosion never came.
Silence.
Stunned, breathless silence.
Then—
“It’s Ms. Sinclair!” someone shouted, relief thick in their voice. “She disabled the remote! I knew she could do it!”
The kidnapper froze, his face slack with disbelief. His gaze snapped toward the car where Isabella sat, barely visible through the window.
She was hunched over, fingers flying across a laptop keyboard.
“No… No way…”
He frantically mashed the detonator button—again and again.
Nothing happened.
