Stand Me Up? I'll Marry His Billionaire Uncle novel Chapter 70

The assistant stepped into the corner and lowered the phone's volume to a whisper. "Mr. Carrington, your wife is waiting outside. Shall I tell her you'll come out?"

Ten minutes later, Sean straightened his suit jacket and strode out, his posture rigid.

His brows drew together. "What are you doing here?"

Grace Quinn, noticing the lipstick stain on his collar, took several deep breaths, fighting to keep her temper in check. "Your precious daughter just climbed out the window and disappeared, and you're still in here fooling around?"

Some things didn't need to be said out loud.

Sean's face flushed. "Don't be ridiculous. She wouldn't run off. Where is she?"

"I heard some young punk helped her escape! You'd better start making calls and find her, or no one's going to save face at the wedding in two days!"

–

Tristan was driving Luna out for a late bite. "Luna, you barely touched your dinner."

"Don't start with the dieting again. You're already skinny."

Luna lowered her head, cheeks pink. "Thank you, Tristan. But being a little thinner looks better on camera."

With her new single about to drop, Tristan had lined up a few talk shows for her to get some exposure.

Because of that, there was no way she'd ever agree to a blind date with a notorious playboy like Young Master Vance.

Tristan smiled, indulgent. "What am I going to do with you?"

A dull ache twisted his stomach. He pressed a palm to his abdomen, trying to ease the pain.

Luna's pretty face filled with concern. "Tristan, is it your ulcer again? Let me help."

She reached over, delicate fingers moving toward his waist.

As soon as her hand brushed the thin fabric of his shirt, Tristan instinctively caught her hand in his.

"Luna, stop it."

Between the banter, neither of them noticed the blue taxi heading straight for them.

Crash—

The two cars slammed into each other, Tristan's body pitching forward, his head knocking hard against the steering wheel. Luna screamed, terrified.

Inside the taxi, Sunny gave a muffled cry as her shoulder slammed into the door. A sharp, stabbing pain radiated through her arm.

The cab driver didn't fare any better—blood trickled steadily from a gash on his forehead.

Cars pulled over, people rushing to check on the scene. "Call an ambulance! The driver's bleeding!"

Wincing, Tristan unfastened his seatbelt and turned to Luna. "Luna, are you alright?"

She rubbed her forehead. "I'm fine, Tristan."

She'd heard the commotion outside. "Tristan, what about the people in the other car?"

He frowned. "Don't move. I'll help you out."

He couldn't care less about the others right now—no one mattered more than his baby sister.

Helping Luna out of the car, Tristan kept a wary eye on the taxi across from them.

Sunny watched coldly as Tristan wrapped his arms around Luna, fussing over her as if no one else existed.

And her? He didn't even spare her a glance.

Sunny, look at you—this is the man you once dreamed about marrying.

Two ambulances arrived, paramedics jumping out to assess the injured.

"Over here, doctor! We've got a serious one!" Tristan waved them down.

Of the four involved, two paramedics hurried to Tristan and Luna, the other two to Sunny and the cab driver.

They wrapped the driver's head and helped him into the ambulance.

"Miss, are you hurt anywhere?" the paramedic asked.

"My shoulder. I think it might be broken."

He splinted her arm carefully.

Ironically, Tristan and Luna had gotten off with barely a scratch.

Sunny watched as Tristan, without turning back, walked with Luna to their ambulance. She felt nothing now—just numb.

A nurse approached Sunny. "Let's get you into the ambulance. With a possible fracture, you'll need an x-ray to see if surgery's required."

"Okay." Sunny looked away.

Turns out, there's no such thing as ‘the coldest heart.' There's always colder.