Chapter 263

The inflatable cushion sagged under Vincent's weight, his motionless body sprawled in the center.

Hannah's heart seized in her chest. For one endless instant, everything inside her turned to ice-breath caught, thoughts blank, the world frozen.

Then, a subtle movement broke the spell; a twitch at the cushion's center.

Slowly and painfully, Vincent dragged himself upright, wracked by harsh, guttural coughs. Each spasm contorted his battered body, agony etched into every breath. Soot smeared his features, blood and sweat mingling on skin split and torn by cuts. His shirt hung in charred ribbons, exposing patches of blistered, seared flesh beneath.

Vincent clawed at the smoke-choked air, gasping,

every rise and fall of his chest a battle for breath.

A stunned hush swept across the crowd before erupting in disbelief.

"Holy crap, he's alive!"

"No way-he actually made it? That's impossible!"

Vincent lurched upright from the battered air cushion, his body racked with violent coughs.Smoke still clung to his skin and hair. For a heartbeat, he seemed disoriented, lost in the chaos-until his gaze found Hannah in the mass of faces. She stood motionless, pale and trembling, braced by the supportive arm of a bystander.

Derek blinked away tears and, without a word,crossed over to Vincent's side.

Hannah's mind still reeled, but her body carried her forward on instinct alone. She pressed through the wall of onlookers, step by shaky step, until she finally stood just a few feet away from Vincent, swaying uncertainly. Her words came out thin and raw. "You...

you're alive?"

Vincent lifted his head, catching the single tear that slid down her cheek and struck him like a blow. The sight seemed to scorch right through him.

He struggled for breath, voice rough with pain and lingering smoke. "Guess I got lucky... hit the cushion at just the right angle. Most of the force missed me.Just knocked the air out of my lungs."

He tried to explain why he'd lain there so long-why he looked half-dead on that cushion. But the moment he saw the tears streaming down her face, any explanation withered away.

"Thank you..." Hannah's sobs tumbledout with the words.

Suddenly, she lunged forward. Before Vincent could process what was happening, she wrapped her arms around him-clinging tight, her whole body trembling.

The hug hit him like a tidal wave-desperate,

overwhelming,real.

That single "thank you" wasn't just gratitude for dragging her out of the fire-it was relief he was stil breathing.

Pressed against his chest, Hannah's body shook with silent cries. Vincent stood rigid, caught off guard.Then, almost involuntarily, his fingers curled at his sides, heat flaring up beneath his skin, flooding his aching limbs. For a moment, the world shrank to just her in his arms. His pulse thundered, wild and unsteady, as if his heart was fighting its way back to life.

Vincent's hand hovered at her waist, holding her as if she were spun glass, every muscle in his arm tensed by awe and uncertainty. For a breathless instant, he simply held her-unsure, almost reverent, afraid a single wrong move might shatter the fragile moment.

But the second his arm settled, something inside Hannah jolted violently awake. Cold logic crashed over her, drowning out every raw impulse. Her spine locked up; panic pulsed through her chest. What on

earth was she doing clinging to him like this?

Flushed with embarrassment, she tried to break away.

"Ah!" As she made to draw herself back, Vincent sucked in a ragged breath, pain lancing through him,his jaw clenched against it.

His arm instinctively tightened around her, his knuckles white as pain flickered across his face."Don't move. It hurts." His voice came out strained and uneven, the final word barely audible-a single,shattered breath.

That frail sound pinned Hannah in place, her eyes flying wide as heat rushed to her cheeks.

Just as she was about to react, the charged stillness snapped.

"Hannah." Claude's voice, deep and proprietary,sliced through the commotion. He barreled forward,brushing aside anyone in his way.

Within seconds, Claude was beside Hannah, ignoring

Vincent entirely as he seized her wrist with a grip that brooked no argument.

The abrupt yank nearly knocked her off her feet sending her stumbling into Claude's chest. Pain shot up her arm where his fingers dug into her skin.

Vincent's arm was ripped away from her waist so abruptly that pain shot through the wound on his back, wringing a raw groan from deep in his chest.

His head jerked up, fury flaring in his eyes-a blaze of outrage at being torn from her side.

For a split second, his balance faltered, and Derek darted in, steadying him with a firm hand.

Claude's gaze never left Hannah. "Are you hurt anywhere?" His voice was heavy with worry.

Hannah stiffened under the scrutiny, quickly shaking her head. "I'm fine. Just... breathed in a little smoke."

Relief flooded Claude's face. He exhaled shakily and moved in closer, lining himself up protectively beside her. Glancing at Vincent, he offered a clipped

apology. "Mr. Jones, please forgive the abruptness.I acted out of urgency."

He lifted his chin, pride simmering beneath his measured politeness-a territorial edge unmistakable in the way he held himself. The corner of his mouth twitched with a hint of a smile. "Your courage today-putting your life on the line for others-I'll remember that."

Vincent didn't acknowledge Claude. Instead, he turned to Hannah, eyes fixed on her, and reached out a steady hand. "Come with me. Let's go to the hospital."

Claude's expression hardened. Without hesitation,he clamped onto Hannah's wrist, making his intent clear. "That won't be necessary. My medical team is almost here."

His fingers bit into her skin, the possessiveness in his hold impossible to miss. Her breath hitched, a flash of discomfort in her eyes.

Vincent's hand remained outstretched, his voice

unwavering, quiet but resolute. "It's your choice.

Who do you want to go with?"