Chapter 187 Flames of Retribution
Chapter 187 Flames of Retribution
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“Hallucinate?” The kidnapper released her, and Sidonie collapsed with a dull thud, face down on the grimy
floor.
A sudden splash followed. Through the camera lens, everyone watched the kidnapper lift a white plastic bucket and drench Sidonic in a clear, shimmering liquid.
Sidonie screamed, “No–ah! What are you doing?”
“What am I doing? Letting you taste the fire yourself. We’ll see if you hallucinate while you burn.” He opened a second bucket and poured the contents over her again, soaking her hair, her clothes, her skin.
Netizen D: It’s fuel! Oh God, that’s gasoline!
Trent’s heart contracted violently. He stared at the monitor, powerless, clinging to one hope–that the police would trace the signal, find the hideout, and rescue Sidonie in time.
“D*mn it!” he growled, crushing Sidonie’s abandoned phone in his fist. “Why is this happening to her?”
He looked toward Quinn, eyes blazing with fury. “This is all your fault, Quinn. If anything happens to Sidonie, it will be on you!”
“I’m the one who caused this?” Quinn’s brows knitted as she shot Trent a look that mixed disbelief with rising anger. “Grafton, have you completely lost it?”
“Everything is on you!” Trent advanced until scarcely a step separated them, accusation crackling in his voice. “If you hadn’t played that recording on purpose during the talk–show interview–if you hadn’t teamed up with the others to corner Sidonie–she never would have bolted back to the green room. None of this would have happened, and she wouldn’t have been kidnapped. You dragged Sidonie into this nightmare!”
A harsh, incredulous laugh spilled from Quinn’s lips. “Same old Trent,” she said, voice icy yet mocking. “Whenever trouble strikes, you pass the blame to anyone standing nearby. You claim I drove Sidonie off, which supposedly led to her being abducted–so why don’t you blame yourself? Weren’t you the one who left with her? Why wasn’t her loving fiancé at her side, guarding her?”
“I-” Trent’s face darkened with humiliation that quickly flared into fury. “Quit twisting things, Quinn. I’m warning you: if Sidonie so much as suffers a scratch, I’ll never let this go!”
Bang!
Trent’s threat had barely hit the air when Julius’s boot slammed into him, sending him crashing to the floor with bone–jarring force.
A sharp wave of pain shot through Trent’s body.
His right hand was still wrapped in bandages; forced to rely on his left, he tried to push himself upright.
He had barely lifted his torso when Julius strode forward, raised his leg again, and drove another merciless
kick into Trent’s ribs.
Trent hit the ground a second time, harder than before, the breath knocked clean out of him.
“You say you won’t spare Quinn? Fine–then I won’t spare you right now.” Julius’s expression was lethal, eyes so cold and intent they seemed capable of murder.
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Chapter 187 Flames of Retribution
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Ice–water dread washed over Trent; sweat burst across his skin despite the studio’s climate–controlled air.
“Julius!” Quinn hurried forward and caught Julius by the arm.
“What? You’re going to shield scum like him?” Julius asked, voice still edged with violence.
“I’m not protecting him–I’m protecting you,” Quinn said firmly. With so many people on set, a full–on beating would spark exactly the kind of scandal Julius didn’t need.
Julius pressed his lips into a thin line, then looked down at Trent sprawled on the floor. “Touch Quinn again,” he said, voice low but ringing, “and I swear–I will hunt you until one of us is dead.”
The vow sounded like a blood oath, irreversible and absolute.
People in the audience seats couldn’t hear him, but everyone on stage did.
Shock flashed across every face.
Who could have imagined that the lofty Mr. Julius would utter such a deadly promise–for a woman?
I will hunt you until one of us is dead.
The weight Quinn held in Julius’s heart was shockingly clear.
Trent stared, frozen, feeling as though dozens of blades were leveled at him–one twitch, and they would slice him open.
Quinn regarded Julius with wide–eyed surprise.
She’d known he cared; his everyday actions left little doubt.
She simply hadn’t realized that his feelings ran deeper than she’d ever guessed.
Warmth pooled in her chest; if not for the crowd surrounding them, she might have kissed him then and there.
Trent finally regained his voice and shouted, “You’re just hiding behind Julius, Quinn! If Sidonie is burned -or dies–shouldn’t you feel at least a shred of guilt?”
“If guilt’s involved, you should feel it first,” Quinn shot back without hesitation. “She’s your fiancée. Her fiancé doesn’t blame himself, yet somehow I’m supposed to? Explain the logic.”
Trent’s retort stalled in his throat.
Quinn lifted her chin toward the giant screen mounted in the television studio. “Besides, we don’t even know if Sidonie is truly an innocent victim in this kidnapping.”
“Of course she’s innocent!” Trent insisted. “She’s kind–she risked her own life to save someone! She’d never stand by and watch someone die. There must be a reason behind all this.”
