To Love a Shadow To Be the Sun novel Chapter 208

Gareth’s grudge against Elara had been simmering for years, and now, his patience snapped.

“If you won’t give her up, then I’ll just take you somewhere you’ll be more inclined to tell the truth.”

Without another word, he clamped a hand around her throat, intending to toss her to his men.

Elara’s heart plunged. She’d never experienced Gareth’s methods firsthand, but she knew falling into his hands would only end badly.

No way could she let him take her.

The moment he tried to throw her, Elara shot out her hand; her fingers buried themselves in Gareth’s hair, gripping the roots and yanking hard.

“Agh—!”

Caught off guard, Gareth doubled over in pain.

Elara held on with gritted teeth, as if she meant to rip his scalp right off. His men scrambled around them in chaos, clawing at her arms, but she wouldn’t let go.

At that moment, Quincy Shelton appeared at the mouth of the alley and cleared his throat loudly, hoping for attention. But all focus was on Gareth’s hair, and no one spared him a glance.

Quincy rolled his eyes, shrugged off his immaculate suit jacket, and strode into the fray.

He grabbed two of Gareth’s men and tossed them aside like sacks of potatoes, silencing the chaos in an instant.

“Miss Jules,” he straightened up and nodded toward the street, “my employer’s been waiting for you. Don’t keep him waiting any longer.”

Elara understood. She flung away the clump of Gareth’s hair—root and all—and strode straight for the black Lincoln waiting at the curb.

“Stop her!” Gareth pressed a bloodied hand to his scalp and roared, “If any of you let her get away, you’re all out of a job!”

But Quincy planted himself between Elara and the thugs. None of them dared take another step.

Elara paused halfway, turned back, and said to Gareth, “You do have a brain, don’t you? Everyone knows Mrs. Archer and I are close. If she really ran to me with some big secret, wouldn’t that be walking right into your trap? Instead of wasting your time here, maybe try eating a few more walnuts—might help your memory, or even your intelligence. You might just find her before someone else does.”

Memories of the way he’d sided with the others against her that day flickered through her mind, leaving a bitter taste.

“Not a bad idea, honestly.”

Zane’s brow arched. This woman clearly had issues with him.

Just then, Quincy climbed in, oblivious to the tension thickening in the air. He chuckled, “Miss Jules, that hair-pulling technique of yours—did you take lessons, or is that just natural talent?”

Elara clutched the paper bag of medicine in her lap and shot back, “All improvised. Not like some people, who’ve spent their whole lives perfecting the art of kicking others when they’re down.”

Quincy finally picked up on the hostility, scratched his nose awkwardly, and buckled his seatbelt in silence.

Zane’s eyes drifted to the bag in Elara’s arms. The words “Ten Weeks Pregnant” printed on the label caught his attention, shattering his calm.

His voice was quiet but sharp. “You’re pregnant?”