Chapter 370: Encountering an Attack
That evening, because Nina Scott was there, Ivy Sherwood couldn’t find a chance to call Quentin Blackwood.
It wasn’t until Nina Scott finally left that Ivy Sherwood, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension, called Quentin Blackwood.
Quentin Blackwood seemed to be busy. It took him a while to answer.
"How did it go? Did everything go smoothly today?" Quentin Blackwood’s voice was as deep and raspy as ever.
"Mhm, I signed the agreement with Caleb Blackwood this morning, and then I ran into the Mercer Family brothers. We went for a DNA test, and I’m not the person they’re looking for." Ivy Sherwood quickly told Quentin Blackwood about her day.
"Quentin, there’s one more thing..." Ivy Sherwood wondered how to tell Quentin Blackwood about the child.
Just then, a voice came from the other end of the line. "Quinn."
Quentin Blackwood was already at the restaurant entrance. The person calling him was Elder Sheridan, who had just gotten out of his car.
Elder Sheridan walked over and started talking to Quentin, and all Ivy Sherwood could hear on the phone was a jumble of voices.
She bit her lip. "You should get back to it. We can talk later."
After exchanging a few words with Elder Sheridan, Quentin spoke into the phone, "What was it you wanted to say just now?"
"It’s nothing. You go ahead and handle your business. We’ll talk about it when you have time!"
’If he’s busy, suddenly telling him I have a child will definitely distract him.’
"Okay, I’ll head back early after this engagement is over. You should get some rest, too."
"Mmm..."
Ivy Sherwood hung up and went to the study. There, she saw the items Quentin Blackwood had won for her at Mr. Summers’ birthday party on the cruise ship.
’Back then, we hadn’t defined our relationship. I felt like he was just trying to sweet-talk a mistress when he gave me these.’
’But things are different now. These are gifts from Quentin, and I have to treasure them!’
......
Quentin Blackwood and Elder Sheridan entered the restaurant together. They had scheduled this dinner long ago. Elder Sheridan knew his health was failing. He had been meeting with Quentin a lot recently; it seemed he wanted to hand over the company’s operations to him. There was no one else. Only Quentin Blackwood could be his best successor.
He would only be at ease if he handed the company over to Quentin.
Otherwise, who knew what kind of mess those people with ulterior motives would make of the company. And they certainly wouldn’t protect Joy.
Quentin Blackwood was a man of loyalty and integrity. If he gave the Sheridan Group to Quentin, he could at least guarantee Joy a life of wealth and comfort.
After they ordered and the food arrived, the two chatted for a bit before Elder Sheridan took out two files. This was the core of the Sheridan Group, something the other shareholders didn’t know about, and he simply handed them to Quentin Blackwood.
"President Sheridan, this is inappropriate." Quentin Blackwood didn’t open them.
Elder Sheridan said, "There’s nothing inappropriate about it, Quinn. You’re the person I trust most. I’ll only be at ease if I hand the company over to you."
As he spoke, he coughed a few times. "With my health, I could go at any time. I know you have your own life now, and Joy is too willful, but I still hope you can be patient with her."
Quentin Blackwood lowered his gaze. "Elder Sheridan, you’re still in good health. Forgive me, but I cannot accept these."
Old Master Sheridan sighed but didn’t press the issue.
The meal was mainly focused on work.
They finished their meal quickly and left the restaurant.
Quentin Blackwood’s driver seemed to have an upset stomach and kept running to the restroom. It wouldn’t be safe for him to drive, in case he had a sudden attack on the road.
Old Master Sheridan recalled how Joy had told him to give Quentin a ride home. ’This is a bit too coincidental,’ he thought.
"Quinn, get in my car. As it happens, there are a few more things I’d like to discuss. I’ll give you a ride home."
"There’s no need to trouble you, President Sheridan. I can just call another driver."
"What trouble? There’s no need for such formalities between us. Come on, get in."
It was an offer he couldn’t refuse, so Quentin Blackwood had no choice but to get into Old Master Sheridan’s car.
It was getting late, and the traffic on the road had thinned out.
Inside the car, Elder Sheridan and Quentin Blackwood were chatting when suddenly, the driver up front said, "President Sheridan, I think there’s a car following us."
"What?"
Elder Sheridan and Quentin Blackwood looked in the rearview mirror and saw that there did seem to be several cars surrounding them.
"Take the next turn. There are fewer cars over there. Lose them," Quentin Blackwood ordered calmly.
But just at that moment—BANG! BANG!—gunshots.
The next second, their car’s rear window shattered as a bullet pierced through it, shooting through the cabin and out the front windshield.
The gunshots came without warning. It was clear the attackers were trying to kill them.
Luckily, the bullet passed between the three of them; otherwise, someone would have been hit.
"Accelerate!" Quentin Blackwood’s eyes were dark and cold.
The driver obeyed, flooring it. Quentin Blackwood pulled out his phone and called Zane Linton, giving him their location and telling him to bring reinforcements and call the police.
Once he was done, Quentin finally noticed Elder Sheridan’s expression. He seemed terrified, his face frozen.
"Elder Sheridan, don’t be afraid. It’ll be okay. Duck down a little to avoid getting hit."
’I’m not sure who sent these men, or who their target is,’ Quentin thought. ’For now, we just have to protect ourselves and wait for backup.’
Suddenly, a bullet hit one of the tires, which immediately blew out. The sudden jolt made it difficult for the driver to control the car, let alone brake.
He stomped on the brake, and the car skidded for a long way. It was now undriveable.
No one had expected something like this to happen tonight, and Quentin Blackwood was especially unprepared. He cursed himself for his miscalculation, praying that the attackers were after him and wouldn’t hurt Elder Sheridan.
Under a hail of bullets, they were now trapped and surrounded in the car with no chance of escape. Quentin ordered the driver to stay perfectly still and make no noise.
The attackers’ cars had them surrounded. A man got out, gun in hand, and approached, apparently to inspect the car’s interior.
Quentin Blackwood seized the opportunity. Just as the man reached the car door, Quentin threw it open with all his might. The man was hit hard, and before he could react, Quentin had already darted out of the car, striking the man’s neck with his elbow. The man collapsed, unconscious.
Quentin snatched the man’s gun. The others saw something was wrong and opened fire on him. Quentin dodged and returned fire with the captured weapon.
Quentin Blackwood was no stranger to guns. He had encountered situations like this many times in his teens.
His marksmanship was excellent; he rarely missed. His expression remained composed. ’I have to stay calm,’ he told himself.
But he was outnumbered and clearly outmatched.
These men were aiming to kill. With so many bullets flying, it was nearly impossible for Quentin to find cover.
Old Master Sheridan watched the chaotic scene outside, his mind unusually clear. The memory of Joy telling him to ride in the same car as Quentin replayed in his head. He suddenly understood who had orchestrated this assassination attempt, and why...
Just then, Old Master Sheridan saw a gunman raise his weapon and take aim at Quentin’s back.
A tear slid from the corner of Old Master Sheridan’s eye. ’Joy, my dear, if this is what you want most in this life... then Grandpa will help you get it.’