Broken Vows and Buried Twins novel Chapter 210

At the end of the pedestrian street lay a large public square.

Older ladies were gathered for their synchronized dancing, kids were zipping around on rollerblades, and older men were huddled under the streetlights playing cards and chess.

Under the night sky, the city buzzed with lively, everyday energy.

Hester found herself wrapped securely in a man's arms as he guided her out of the crushing crowd and into this open space.

The moment they cleared the street, the suffocating claustrophobia vanished.

Hester immediately began to struggle. "Let me go!"

The man had one arm tight around her waist and his other hand gripping her wrist.

The distance from the street to the square was barely a hundred yards, but he seemed to have walked it with immense difficulty.

Now, at her forceful shove, his tall frame entirely gave way, and he staggered backward several steps.

"Mr. Weston!" a shout rang out from the crowd.

Before Hester could even process what was happening, two large figures sprinted toward them.

Julian was caught and supported by a mixed-race man with a small ponytail.

"Mr. Weston, where are you hurt?" the other man, sporting a buzz cut, asked anxiously, taking in Julian's deathly pale face.

Julian's breathing was heavy, his dark eyes fixed entirely on Hester.

Hester stood a few steps away, frowning at him. "Julian, what the hell is going on?"

"It's nothing," Julian said. A fine layer of sweat had broken out on his forehead, and his face was utterly bloodless from pain, yet his expression remained composed as he tried to reassure her. "I'll have Tate Morgan take you back to the hotel first."

Hester pressed her lips together.

She knew Julian was hiding something.

Was someone in that crowd trying to hurt her?

Her mind instantly flashed back to the fire at the gala...

Her intuition screamed that the two events were connected.

But this clearly wasn't the time to interrogate him.

She remained silent, choosing not to reject his arrangement.

...

It was only after returning to the hotel that Hester realized Julian was staying in the presidential suite right next to hers.

She remembered that 'dream' on the plane.

Hester raised a single eyebrow. "That's fine. Your reaction just gave me the answer anyway."

Tate had nothing to say to that.

Hester offered a cold smile. "Go back and tell your boss that if he insists on keeping things from me, he'd better clean up his own messes and stop dragging me into them."

With that, Hester tapped her keycard, unlocked the door, and walked inside.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Tate stared at the closed door, let out a massive sigh of relief, and turned toward the suite next door.

...

Inside the presidential suite, Julian was sitting on the sofa, shirtless.

Leon Hunt was cleaning his wound.

Julian's back had been slashed open by a sharp blade. He had lost a fair amount of blood, but fortunately, the cut wasn't too deep.

When Tate walked in, Leon had just finished cleaning the gash and was beginning to stitch it up.

For someone like Leon, who had served in the peacekeeping forces, a flesh wound like this was no challenge at all.