Chapter 593

Bullets poured down like a wild storm, the air torn apart in a furious frenzy.

In that heartbeat of chaos, Vincent acted without thought-his body became Hannah's shield, the bullet finding his back instead of hers.

A heavy thud followed as a stray bullet hit Vincent squarely in the back. His body convulsed, and blood streamed from the wound, curling red through the seawater.

Realizing something was terribly wrong, Hannah cried out, "Nate, hurry! Pull him up!"

Her arms fought to hold Vincent afloat, though his weight threatened to drag her under.

Even with veins standing out against his temple, Vincent forced a faint smile, as if to steady her heart."Don't worry. I'm fine."

But the weakness in his voice betrayed him.

At last, Nate's boat reached them.

With a surge of willpower, Vincent summoned his last reserves of strength, pushing Hannah onto the deck before himself.

But when his turn came, his arms gave way-blood loss and fatigue swallowed his strength whole. His forehead struck sharply against the boat's edge, and the world collapsed into blackness as his body fell back.

Hannah lunged forward, half her body spilling over the side, her grip tightening on his arm like a lifeline.

Nate bent quickly, catching Vincent's other arm, and together they dragged him aboard.

Once on deck, Vincent's arm instinctively circled Hannah, pulling her close. His whisper was faint but heavy with meaning. "Just now, I almost lost you again." Hannah clung to him, her voice breaking. "We won't be apart anymore."

But already she could feel his warmth fading, and panic pressed against her chest.

The boat carved across the waves, racing toward the Windchaser. The instant they reached the ship,Hannah checked him-his body limp, his forehead burning with fever. He was slipping fast. But no doctor stood among them.

Hudson, who had followed them back, examined Vincent's wounds with grave precision. "Mr. Jones is severely injured. He needs surgery and anti-infection treatment at once. The nearest hospital fit for this is in Agosphia. I can arrange the best specialists there immediately. The decision is yours. At our speed, we'll arrive by dawn."

Nate turned to Hannah, his voice steady but urgent. "Ms. Scott, shall we head for Agosphia?"

Hannah didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Later, Hudson took Aanya with him.

Hannah noticed the way Hudson's eyes flickered toward his daughter-no tenderness, only irritation, even disdain. And Aanya, on meeting his gaze, recoiled like a frightened bird, fear stronger than trust.

It struck Hannah as strange, yet she pushed the thought aside. She gathered her strength instead, working with Nate to properly settle the women rescued from the Odin-providing clean clothes,food,and shelter.

The long night passed with Hannah at Vincent's side, her hand tirelessly pressing a damp cloth to his fevered brow. Still, the fire in him raged on, his wound a constant reminder of the peril he faced.

Finally, dawn broke, and the Windchaser glided into Agosphia's port.

Hudson's contacts awaited them. Vincent was whisked into the capital's finest hospital and rushed into surgery.

As the doors of the operating room closed, Hannah's heart climbed into her throat. Her father had once gone into surgery and never returned-the memory haunted her, turning waiting into pure torment. She couldn't simply sit; idleness felt like a prison closing in. So she busied herself, pushing fear into the

background.

She checked on the rescued women, pressing money into their hands, enough for a new beginning.

The women looked at her with disbelief, as if freedom itself were too heavy to grasp."You're...truly letting us go? And giving us money?" one timid voice broke the silence.

"Yes," Hannah replied firmly."Use it wisely-start fresh and learn a trade. One thing only: bury the past and live well."

She slipped them a paper with an address. "This is my branch office in Agosphia. If you're lost or need honest work, go there. Mention my name-Hannah Scott. Someone will arrange work for you."

The women were still struggling to process this.

One woman, Sandra Astley, stepped forward at last, having gathered courage. "But before, you threatened to sell us. Why treat us kindly now?"

Hannah's voice softened. "That was an act-to frighten you into following me, so I could get you off that ship. Don't place your trust so easily again. And never let anyone trick you onto a vessel like that."

Sandra's eyes glistened, tears spilling as she choked, "Thank you!"

Her words broke the dam, and the others followed, each offering gratitude.

Hannah said, "There's no need to thank me. I only wish you safety and peace."

When the women were seen off, Hannah returned swiftly to the hospital. The surgery was finished. The doctor informed her that the bullet had been removed, but Vincent's condition remained dire-blood loss and infection held him captive in unconsciousness.

A nurse took the tray that held the extracted bullet. Hannah stared at the cold piece of metal,her heart sinking like a stone into the depths.