They’re sisters?

Bright overhead lights buzzed faintly. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air. Quincy paced the polished floor restlessly, his eyes bloodshot with worry and rage. Every few seconds, he'd glance toward the emergency doors, muttering curses under his breath.

Fransisca sat nearby, her usually poised figure now slouched. She clutched her silk shawl tightly around her, knuckles white, her expression drawn and anxious.

Suddenly, the ER doors swung open with a loud thud. A stretcher was wheeled in at top speed, nurses barking orders.

Fransisca stood up, eyes wide.

"Is that not Angel?"

Quincy's head snapped around.

"Angel where?" he demanded, following her gaze.

Both rushed forward in alarm. Angel lay motionless on the stretcher, bruised and bloodied, her face pale as snow. Her dark hair clung to her clammy forehead.

"What happened to her?" Quincy asked sharply.

"She got hit by a car," one of the nurses replied grimly as they pushed her past.

Fransisca gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Oh my goodness! What the hell is going on? Why did she shoot Blue and suddenly get hit by a car?"

Quincy exhaled hard, running both hands through his hair.

"This is a bad situation! My brain can't even process this all."

Fransisca turned on her heel.

"I will go check on her!"

But Quincy grabbed her arm, holding her back. His grip was firm.

"Why would you check on her? She tried to kill her own sister."

Fransisca's head tilted in confusion, her brow furrowed.

"Her sister? Which sister?" she asked, looking dumbfounded.

Quincy's jaw clenched.

"Mum! We went to meet Logan tonight and we found out that Angel is the sister that Harper has been looking for."

Fransisca's lips parted, stunned.

"What? They're sisters?"

"Yes mum."

Fransisca lowered herself into a chair, disbelief washing over her.

"Oh my goodness! That's why I found Harper so familiar when she was first brought in, they were both walkers."

She looked up at Quincy, her voice trembling.

"This is crazy mum! Harper was still feeling bad about them being sisters and now she came to shoot her down. Is Angel crazy?"

Quincy exhaled slowly, fists clenching and unclenching.

"Calm down Quincy! We will sort this out."

Just then, a DOCTOR walked in, holding a clipboard.

"Excuse me, Mr Dylan! You are the patient guardian?"

"Yes doctor."

"She needs a blood transfusion."

Quincy took a step forward instantly.

"Then give it to her! Should I come and donate?"

The doctor hesitated.

"She has a rare blood group sir."

"Oh how do we get that?"

"The hospital has just one right now and it has been taken away."

Quincy's eyes darkened.

"Away to where?"

"We had an emergency just now so the doctor came to take the blood."

Quincy growled and stormed down the corridor.

"Which damn doctor!" he yelled, his voice echoing.

He shoved open the emergency ward doors to find another doctor already setting up the blood transfusion for Angel.

"You! Don't you dare use that blood!" he barked, his voice thunderous.

The doctor turned in surprise.

"Mr Dylan—"

"Give the blood to me!" Quincy snapped, stepping closer, fury radiating off him.

"My patient needs it."

Quincy's voice dropped, deadly.

"My girl needs it more. She got shot by your patient right here. I can't let her die, would I?"

"Mr Dylan, I got the blood first. I have the right to use it."

"Go and find the blood somewhere else. She will not die waiting for some minutes, right?"

A faint whisper came from the bed.

"Quincy…"

He turned quickly. Angel's eyes fluttered open, her voice hoarse and weak.

"You are awake?"

"Yes…" she whispered.

"We need this blood to save Harper. You wouldn't mind, right? You don't like your sister to die, do you?"

Angel's lips trembled. Her fingers barely twitched.

"Give it to her."

Quincy didn't hesitate.

"Cool!" he said, snatching the blood bag and storming out.

Fransisca stood waiting. As soon as she saw him return with the blood, her expression twisted in outrage.

"Quincy! Don't you have any sympathy? Why would you go snatch the blood just like that!" she yelled, her voice sharp and trembling.

Quincy turned toward her, calm but cold.

"Mum, should I leave Harper to die because they want to save Angel? I'm sure she doesn't mind too."

"Quincy!" she shouted again, exasperated.

Ignoring her, Quincy turned to his assistant.

"Paige, tell the other hospital branches to send blood over or find a donor immediately and offer them a lot."

Paige, already on the phone, nodded briskly.

"Yes Boss!"

The hallway buzzed with activity, but Quincy stood firm—his eyes filled with fierce protectiveness. Harper would live, no matter the cost…..

Smoke curled from the cigar in Logan's fingers as he leaned against a leather armchair, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, gold chains glinting against his chest. The TV was on mute, flashing a news ticker about rising crime rates. A bodyguard stepped in, slightly breathless.

Logan turned lazily, lifting his eyes.

"What? She got ran over by a car?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed, looking dumbfounded.

"Yes boss." The bodyguard nodded, eyes downcast, voice low with unease.

Logan stood upright slowly, his face hardening as he processed the news. He flicked ash from his cigar onto the floor.

"Damnit! Did you confirm whether she killed Quincy or not?"

"No boss! I can't go into the courtesan house to confirm it—we just have to wait for the news."

Logan's jaw tightened. He let out a sharp breath and crushed the cigar into a crystal tray. His eyes darkened.

"Track her to the hospital and get rid of her whether she killed Quincy or not. I don't want the Dylan to come after me."

"Yes Boss! Immediately."

The bodyguard gave a swift nod and exited with urgency, pulling out a burner phone and whispering into it as the door closed behind him.

Logan stood alone in the dim room, silent. The weight of the threat lingered heavy in the air. His fingers tapped the table restlessly, eyes narrowed.

Outside, thunder cracked. The storm was coming—for everyone.