In the chaos, I looked up instinctively—and saw Ethan shoving through the crowd, running like crazy toward me, shouting my name:
"Alex Simmons!"
For a moment, my mind went blank.
The way he ran, the panic on his face—it overlapped, slowly, with that boy from seven years ago who had thrown himself in front of a knife for me.
My heart clenched.
But right then, Victoria's shrill voice cut through:
"Ethan, I'm so scared! Don't leave me!"
I watched his steps halt abruptly. He turned toward her.
Not even a second of hesitation.
He ran back to Victoria, leaving me standing there alone, completely frozen.
The chaos intensified. The crystal chandelier overhead groaned with the shaking ground. The next second, it tore loose and came crashing down—straight toward me.
My pupils shrank. My mind went white.
At that critical moment, a dark figure rushed forward and shoved me hard.
With a deafening crash, the chandelier smashed into the spot where I'd just been standing. Fragments exploded everywhere.
I staggered, caught myself, and finally saw who had saved me—Marcus, Richard's personal bodyguard.