Chapter 1119:
Rylie bit her lip, struggling not to smile. A second later, he grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly as he lifted his reddened eyes to glare at her. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
Rylie barely kept her composure. Seeing someone so formidable reduced to this state was almost unfairly endearing. “Storm won’t say a word,” she said gently. “He probably came because the footage has been recovered.”
Brad leaned back against the headboard, his eyes dropping to his injured leg before he asked quietly, “What footage?”
“I didn’t come unprepared,” Rylie replied. “My combat suit has embedded micro-cameras with internal storage. They’re waterproof, but they’re damaged. Extracting the data won’t be simple.”
Brad was quiet for a moment. “Did it capture what they did?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Both times you were cornered—I recorded everything.”
That included the moment his leg was crushed beneath them. His breath hitched, his fingers curling tight without him realizing it. “Even… the worst of it?”
“I won’t release any of it,” she said softly.
When the fasting period ended, Rylie arranged for a proper meal. Brad ate slowly, taking his time with each bite. After he finished, he hesitated before finally asking, “My leg…”
His eyes kept sliding toward the shape beneath the blanket. The limb was still there, still visible, yet it felt strangely foreign—as if it no longer answered to him.
𝗗ownlо𝖺𝘥𝗮𝗯𝗅𝘦 𝘗D𝖥𝗌 o𝘯 ga𝗅𝗇𝘰𝗏е𝗅𝘴.𝘤o𝗺
The fleeting relief faded, replaced by the crushing weight of reality settling back onto his chest.
“It’s been saved,” Rylie replied immediately, her tone steady. “The nerves took significant damage,” she added calmly, “but I’ll handle it.”
Brad’s voice sank to a near whisper. “If… if I can’t ever stand again…”
Rylie lifted his face gently, forcing him to meet her gaze. “That won’t happen. There is no if. Your only job is to recover. Everything else is on me. Since we’re in this together, your risk is mine.”
Her eyes were unwavering, calm, and resolute. As he held her gaze, the heavy knot of dread and resentment inside him gradually loosened.
He drew her back into his arms, pressing his face against her neck and inhaling deeply—the sterile scent of antiseptic layered with the warm, familiar essence of her that steadied his breathing.
Outside the room, Britton clicked his tongue and muttered to Storm, “Once she claims someone, it’s practically a lifelong shield—and a dangerous one at that.”
“That’s how she’s always been,” Storm replied. “If she weren’t, the family that raised her wouldn’t have exploited her for years without a fight.”
Britton exhaled quietly. “Still… it’s hard not to feel a little jealous.”
The following morning, Rylie prepared to leave—only to discover that Deandre was nowhere to be found.
She searched his study, then casually asked one of the guards posted outside, “Where is he?”
“He boarded a private jet around four this morning,” the guard replied.
Rylie stopped short. “He left? We had plans today.”
The guard hesitated. “It looked urgent.”
“Where did he go?” Rylie pressed.
“Ostium,” replied the guard.
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