The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 207

Chapter 207 The Shot

He didn’t try to dive for cover. He didn’t try to shoot back. He launched himself bodily at Kieran.

It wasn’t a graceful tackle. It was a desperate, crashing collision of two worlds. The world of decay and greed meets the world of stubborn and loving survival.

Drakonius’s shoulder slammed into Kieran’s midsection. The air left Kieran’s lungs in a painful ooof. The gun, aimed at Drakonius’s chest, was knocked upwards as Kieran’s arm flailed.

They stumbled together, a tangled mess of limbs and rage, crashing into the main workbench. Glassware rattled and fell. A microscope toppled over with a crash.

Elera was already moving, her own fear forgotten, replaced by a single driving need: to get to Drakonius, to get him away.

Xan was right beside her, his taser forgotten, his hands reaching to grab Kieran’s gun arm.

Everything was noisy and chaotic.

And then, a sound cut through it all.

It was sharp and very loud and it was final.

BANG.

The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space of the lab. It echoed off the stainless steel and glass, a single, violent punctuation mark to the struggle.

The tangled movement stopped.

Kieran and Drakonius froze, locked together.

For a horrible, endless second, nothing happened. No one breathed.

Then, Drakonius let out a soft, sighing grunt. His grip on Kieran loosened. He took one stumbling step backward, his hand going to his side.

Elera’s world narrowed to a tunnel. She saw his fingers, pale against his dark shirt. She saw the dark, wet stain that was already spreading, blooming across the fabric like a terrible, fast–growing flower.

He looked down at his own side, then up at Elera, his eyes wide with surprise more than pain. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

Then his legs buckled.

He fell down but in a slow, heavy sink to his knees, and then onto his side on the cold lab floor.

The gunshot’s echo faded, leaving a ringing silence that was a thousand times worse than the noise,

Kieran stood over him, the gun still sinking in his hand. He was panting, his hair disheveled, his suit torn, He looked from the gun to the man on the floor, and a strange, empty expression settled on his face. It

1:14 pm P M

Chapter 207 The Shot

Finished

wasn’t a triumphant feeling. It wasn’t even rage anymore. It was the blank look of a man who has finally, irrevocably, broken something beyond repair.

Elera didn’t remember crossing the room. One second she was frozen, the next she was on her knees beside Drakonius, her hands pressing against the warm, wet stain on his shirt. “No, no, no, no, look at me, look at me!” she begged, her voice high and frantic. Her doctor’s mind tried to engage, assessing the location–lower abdomen, possibly liver, spleen–but her heart was like a wild, terrified animal in her

chest.

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