Chapter 1269:

Brad took Kari’s hand and led her inside, heading straight to the front desk and collecting a room key without a moment’s pause. Kari stared at him. “You booked a room here?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he replied coolly.

He opened the door and guided her gently into the room ahead of him.

The lights came on, revealing a bed blanketed in red rose petals, with balloons, bouquets, and candles arranged throughout the room.

Kari went still, her eyes filling with tears almost instantly. She had seen plenty of men attempt to impress her with grand romantic gestures, but none of them had ever affected her the way this one did.

“Aren’t you always asking whether I love you? Whether I still want you?”

Brad stepped closer, lifting his hand as though he couldn’t help himself, his fingers brushing softly against Kari’s cheek. The way he looked at her was impossibly gentle—so tender it made her head spin.

Kari’s heart pounded wild and unsteady in her chest. Was he finally about to show her how he truly felt?

“These last few days,” he said quietly, his voice rough and low, “I know I’ve hurt you.”

𝘑𝗈𝗂𝘯 𝗍𝗵o𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗻𝖽𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝖿аn𝘴 𝗈ո 𝗀а𝗹ո𝗼v𝖾𝗹ѕ.𝗰𝗈𝗺

Her eyes brimmed red as she shook her head. “No… it’s okay.”

Brad pulled his hand back and turned away, striking a match to light a scented candle. A strange sweetness spread slowly through the room—thick, unfamiliar, and almost overwhelming.

Then the lights went dark. He eased her back onto the bed, and the loosened tie slid over her eyes as a blindfold. He straightened up and began undoing his suit jacket, each button slipping free one by one.

In the pitch-black room, she couldn’t see him—but every faint rustle and shift of fabric told her where he was. There was something raw in the air around him, something intense and almost animalistic. The mere thought sent heat rushing through her, her body responding on instinct, craving him, longing to feel him close.

Warmth spread rapidly through her veins. “Brad…” she breathed, his name barely more than a whisper, fragile and trembling. “Are you ready?”

He didn’t answer.

Still, she sensed him drawing nearer.

The mattress dipped under added weight, and warm breath grazed her neck. She shuddered and reached for him without thinking—only for a scorching hand to catch her wrist and press it down. His touch felt feverish, almost too hot against her skin. Her heart hammered wildly, as though it might burst from her chest.

Slowly, that heated hand slid lower, gliding from her collarbone to her shoulder before settling firmly at her waist. The touch was gentle and unhurried, almost cautious, yet tension ran beneath it—as if he were holding himself back.

“Brad…” she called again, unable this time to hide the urgency in her voice. “I need you. Please, don’t make me wait.”

At last, he moved.

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