From His Ex-Wife to the World's Most Sought-After Restorer (Jade and Hudson) novel Chapter 227

Crash—

The impact was catastrophic. Jade had increased her speed right before the hit, and the combined momentum was devastating. The windshield shattered into a web of glass, and Jade's head slammed forward into the frame.

Warm blood began to trickle down her face. She tried to keep her eyes open, but the world was dissolving into a hazy blur.

"I'll check," Victor said, throwing his door open before the car had even fully stopped.

Spit.

Lyndon spat out a mouthful of blood. Their car was already starting to smoke. He fumbled with the handle, his hands shaking so much he practically rolled out of the driver's seat onto the asphalt.

Thud.

A heavy sound came from behind him. Victor turned and saw Lyndon on the ground; he doubled back to haul him up.

"Mr. Spenser, you okay?"

Lyndon waved him off. "Search the driver. If they have a phone or a recorder, smash it."

Victor nodded and started toward the mangled white rental.

As he walked, he peered through the darkness, trying to see the face behind the wheel.

But the glass was a mess, and the driver was wearing a low-slung baseball cap that hid everything but a sharp, pale chin.

Just open the door. Pull the hat off. Then you'll know.

Victor reached the car and reached for the handle.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Gunshots shattered the silence, rounds thudding into the car door inches from his hand.

Victor's face went white. He dove for cover, but his pride was stinging. He was so close. He just needed to know who had played them in the warehouse.

He leaned out from behind the trunk, dodging a few more rounds, and tried to crawl toward the driver's side again.

Zip—

A bullet tore through the air and found its mark in Victor's shoulder.

A choked grunt escaped his lips as he clutched his arm, blood immediately soaking through his fingers.

"Move!"

Lyndon lunged from the shadows, grabbing Victor and hauling him back toward their car. He fumbled with the ignition as Victor gasped out.

"The files... they saw... they saw the files..."

Lyndon looked at Victor—pale, sweating, and bleeding out—and snapped.

"I don't give a d*mn about the files right now! We stay here, we're dead. We get out, we regroup. Move!"

He slammed the car into gear and tore away into the night.

In the white rental, Jade felt like her brain was wrapped in thick wool.

She was drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to find a single coherent thought.

She heard noises—loud cracks like gunfire— but she couldn't be sure.

Minutes later—or maybe hours—she felt someone gently lifting her from the wreckage. A soft, clean scent filled her lungs.

It smelled like sunshine. Warm and safe.

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