Chapter 1097:
One of the guards, badly hurt during a sudden ambush on the road, was unconscious and barely responsive. The second guard, nursing only minor injuries, helped Kari lower Brad onto a smooth rock before hurrying to examine the fallen teammate.
Kari pulled a compact medical kit from her pack and knelt beside the rock, working swiftly to clean and wrap Brad’s injuries. The sharp ache in his shoulder seemed to drag him closer to awareness, though his gaze stayed unfixed and his brow remained tightly furrowed.
“You’re conscious?” Kari said gently, lowering her voice on purpose. “It’s okay now. You’re not in danger.”
Brad squinted, trying to make sense of her face, as if he wasn’t sure who he was looking at. His mouth barely moved as he rasped out, “Did you save me?”
Kari answered without hesitation, her tone steady. “Who do you think?”
Brad’s expression tightened—not because of the pain, but because something about her response didn’t match the scattered memories drifting through his mind.
On the edge of slipping back under, he clearly recalled a slim figure, someone familiar.
“Wasn’t there someone else?” he asked softly, doubt lacing every word.
Kari’s hands froze for just a fraction of a second before continuing as if nothing had happened. When she spoke again, her tone carried a carefully measured hint of sarcasm. “Someone else? You mean the Crimson Fangs Mercenary Group, Admiral Morgan? They get paid for pulling the trigger.”
Then she looked up, her eyes narrowing as they met his. “Or,” she paused, “were you thinking of that woman—Rylie?”
Hearing Rylie’s name, Brad’s dull eyes suddenly brightened, a subtle spark of recognition cutting through his haze. Kari noticed immediately. A sharp, strange pang tugged at her chest, yet her face remained composed, a hint of detachment lingering in her gaze.
𝖳𝗵e 𝖻е𝘀𝘁 r𝘦a𝗱𝗂ո𝘨 𝘦xpеr𝗶𝘦ոсe o𝗇 𝘨𝖺l𝗇ovе𝗹𝗌.co𝗆
“So you care for her, huh? Shame this isn’t the place for love. East Islet’s trap leaves no escape. Even a capable woman from the arms world can’t just wade into this fight, and why would the Owens jeopardize dealings with two nations to pull you out?”
Her tone was cold, designed to erase any comforting illusions. “Don’t forget my father. Without him, I wouldn’t even be here trying to save you.”
Brad lifted his gaze toward her, understanding slowly dawning. “Your father arranged this,” he realized.
“Exactly. You understand how highly my father thinks of you.” Kari’s eyes softened slightly as she looked down at him. “He picked you to stand beside me. I’m destined to take over the Havenridge Group. Your survival is tied to supporting that mission.”
These lessons had been drilled into Kari by her father over the years.
In business, sentiment was a liability. Only strategic advantage and shared goals endured.
Saving Brad wasn’t about loyalty or affection; it was a calculated mission connected to succession and investment strategy.
Both she and her father saw Brad’s worth—a man who could extend the Havenridge Group’s reach across Arindel, maybe even further.
Who he loved was irrelevant. As long as their objectives matched, emotions could follow later or not, but appearances and function had to remain perfect.
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