His Regret, Her Vengeance

Chapter 2

Flames exploded through the room, swallowing everything in their path. Quinn gave the secret chamber one final glare before storming out without so much as a glance behind her.

The news reached Ethan within minutes. He charged into the inferno like a man with nothing left to lose, a frenzied beast roaring through the smoke.

"Ethan!"

Her voice cut through the chaos like a knife. "It's her or me. Make your choice. Walk through that door, and we're done."

"You did this?" He whirled on her, eyes dark with a promise of death, his voice like jagged ice scraping bone. "If she dies, I will bury you with her."

Without hesitation, he dove headlong into the fire's maw, reckless as a moth charging toward oblivion.

Quinn's breath caught. A cold certainty settled in her gut: that murderous glint in his eyes was real. If that woman perished, he would make good on his threat.

Three minutes passed. Then five. Then seven.

Seconds stretched like hours with no sign of Ethan. As the flames roared higher, Quinn's resolve cracked. A sharp whistle brought a masked figure lunging into the blaze, emerging moments later with Ethan cradled in his arms, the man's body limp.

His hands were raw, blistered ruins, yet even unconscious, he had shielded the woman beneath him with terrifying devotion.

The sight shattered Quinn. A single tear seared a trail down her cheek like liquid fire. "Money is no object. Get them the best doctors, the best care," she ground out, her jaw clenched so tight it ached.

Normally, she repaid wounds tenfold. But for Ethan, she could not even muster the will to strike back.

The world called her a monster, but only she knew the truth. Her wicked persona was just flimsy armor around her fragile heart. For years, he had taught her how to love, and now he tore it all apart himself.

He never knew her people had been ready to rescue them all along. She just wanted an answer.

And he gave her one—a knife to the gut.

Quinn stayed by Ethan's side for three straight days, only for him to croak the first thing on waking up. "Where is Vivian?"

"She is dead." Her voice was ice, her eyes locked onto him from the chair.

That set him off like a bomb. He ripped out his IV and lunged, his fingers crushing her throat. His voice boiled with fury. "Dead? I warned you. If she died, you would follow. They were right. You are a walking curse. Everyone near you ends up ruined. Quinn, you do not deserve love."

His grip crushed her windpipe, choking her with the reek of death. Then a memory stabbed through her, sudden and sharp.

A winter night years ago, cornered in an alley by Carter family thugs. Ethan had charged in, shielding her.

His hands on her shoulders, he had vowed, "Quinn, no one is touching you again. I've got you."

She had pulled her coat tight, whispering, "Ethan, stop being nice. I will start trusting you."

She had believed every word, only for his actions now to scream that their past had vanished into thin air. A lie. All of it.

A twisted, humorless smile curled Quinn's lips—a silent scream of betrayal. Her trembling hands scrabbled across the bedside table until they seized a pitcher of water. With a surge of raw fury, she hurled it straight at the man before her.

The pitcher connected with a sickening thud. Bright red blood splattered from his temple, streaking down his forehead and blooming across the white sheets like a grotesque flower. His grip slackened in shock, his eyes blazing as he roared, "You are insane!"

She held her head high, her eyes blazing with defiance. 'Let him understand. I am no toy he can toss aside. I never was.'

That unyielding arrogance sent rage boiling through Ethan's veins. Snatching his phone, he snarled at his assistant, "Take Quinn away. Throw her in the wine cellar and let her rot there. No one frees her without my say."

"Ethan, you would not dare." Her body locked rigid as guards seized her wrists. She thrashed against them, a wild thing cornered, her teeth sinking into her lip hard enough to draw blood rather than shed tears.

He did not flinch. His back was a wall of ice, unmoved even as they dragged her away. Not a word. Not a glance.

Thirty minutes later, a nurse's voice cut through the quiet. "Mr. Bennett, come quick. Vivian Carter is awake."