The Wife He Dumped, The Queen She Returned As novel Chapter 122

The pain and violent impact she had anticipated never came.

"What the hell!" the driver yelled, his voice trembling with terror.

Chloe looked up. Flames danced in the twilight, painting the evening sky blood-red.

A Maserati had forcefully rammed the van out of the way. The front of the luxury sports car was severely caved in, while the van was already a twisted mess of metal, engulfed in raging flames and billowing thick black smoke into the sky.

Her mind instantly went blank, her breathing coming to a halt.

Chloe shoved the door open. Her legs felt like jelly, and the few short steps took every ounce of strength she had.

The car doors were locked. There was no way to tell what was happening inside.

"Preston..."

"Preston!"

She slammed her hands against the window, tears of sheer panic streaming down her face.

Dead silence emanated from within the vehicle.

"Miss, step back! That van looks like it's going to blow!" a helpful bystander shouted.

Chloe spun around, pleading with the gathering crowd. "There's still someone inside! Please, help me save him!"

A few people rushed forward, tugging at the handles, only to frown and shake their heads. "It's locked tight! We can't open it. We've already called the cops, you need to get out of here!"

With that, they all scrambled away.

The fire grew wilder, the shadow of death creeping closer. Chloe found it impossible to keep her composure. All she could see was Preston's face.

Not his face as it was now.

But the way he looked thirteen years ago, when they first met.

The lean, tall teenage boy who had stood in front of her, shielding her from all the mockery, disdain, and malicious stares.

Back then, she had already grown accustomed to wearing a thick armor to defend herself against the world.

Yet that was the first time her hardened heart had beat for another person.

"Preston! Can you hear me?"

"Preston!"

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