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Chapter 1920
“Ah!!!” The air was pierced by the waiter’s screams as chaos erupted around them.
Calls to the police echoed amidst the panic.
The sedan had crashed into the door of the restaurant and was wedged there, its rear engulfed in flames,
threatening a second explosion.
Thankfully, Hannah's quick reflexes had saved them.
She and Bryson had managed to dodge the initial impact, rolling to safety.
Aside from a few bruises, they were unharmed.
Hannah, supported by Bryson, stood and assessed the scene.
To her horror, the car stuck in the doorway was Bryson’s.
The explosion had injured the bodyguard who was driving.
His head was bleeding profusely, though he had managed to escape the worst of the wreckage.
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Still conscious but trapped, his life hung in the balance.
“Help! “
Ignoring the danger of another explosion, Hannah sprinted towards the front of the car.
Bryson was right behind her, and together they extricated the bodyguard, dragging him to the relative safety
further inside the restaurant.
The bodyguard’s eyes were clouded with blood, his breathing faint.
He mustered the strength to speak, his voice barely a whisper.
“Mr.
Mitchell, the brakes... they weren't working.
I wasn't careless.
No matter how hard | slammed on them, they didn’t respond.
Hannah's expression was stern as she instructed the bodyguard, “Don’t talk about it now.
We'll discuss it once you're out of danger.
The restaurant staff, rattled by the chaotic scene outside, had retreated to the safety of the kitchen.
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However, upon seeing Hannah and Bryson carrying the injured man, they froze, struck by fear.
Hannah scanned the room quickly and spotted the restaurant manager.
“Did you call 9117” she asked sharply.
The manager nodded vigorously.
“Yes, | called them.
He... Is he going to be okay?” he asked hesitantly.
“He's just unconscious,” Hannah reassured him briefly before setting the bodyguard down gently.
She then looked up at the manager, her voice calm but authoritative.
“I need to apply first aid.
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Do you have any clean gauze or towels?”
“Yes, yes, we have clean towels,” the manager replied.
He then quickly directed his staff, “Bring Miss Moore sclean towels, quickly!”
As one of the staff hurried off to fetch the towels, Hannah pressed down on the bodyguard’s wound with her
fingers, her palm quickly reddening with blood.
She glanced up at Bryson, her tone urgent.
“Bryson, hold his head steady.
Make sure he doesn’t move and worsen the injury.
“Okay.
Bryson maintained his composure as he carefully supported the bodyguard’s head, allowing Hannah to more
effectively manage the bleeding.
“Just a moment.
Here's a clean towel,” the manager said as he approached with the item in hand, extending it toward Hannah.
“Miss Moore, here you are.
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