Chapter 392:
Zaylee’s voice trembled. “What… What are you doing here? Why are you in Brad’s bed?”
Rylie again. That damned girl!
Rylie sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. Her hair was still wet, soaking into the shirt and leaving faint marks on her skin.
“I should be asking you that!” Her voice, slightly raspy from alcohol, was unusually clear. “Sneaking into Brad’s room at night, jumping into his bed — do you make a habit of this sort of thing?”
Zaylee flushed deep red as she scrambled to her feet. “What does it matter to you if I go to my boyfriend’s room? And in case you forgot, I’m Brad’s fiancée. Why do you keep getting between us? Are you trying to be the mistress?”
Rylie leaned against the headboard, her eyes calmly watching the girl at the foot of the bed. Her gaze dropped to the sunflower necklace hanging from Zaylee’s neck. She chuckled softly. “I don’t know if you’ll ever become Brad’s wife, but right now, you’re not. Your lies might work on your classmates, but I won’t buy them.”
Rylie suddenly leaned forward and brushed her fingers over the necklace. “It’d be around my neck if I wanted it. Got it?”
Zaylee stiffened. “What are you talking about?”
Rylie gently patted her shoulder. Her tone was quiet, but each word hit hard. “That necklace was meant for me. If Brad truly loved you, he would have bought a new one for you. He’s not that cheap. Most likely, you asked for it before it got thrown away. Then you dressed it up with stories to feed your vanity. Isn’t that right, Zaylee?”
Another flash of lightning lit up the room. In that brief second, Rylie’s eyes sparkled — bright, sharp, and dead sober.
Zaylee stood frozen, her heart pounding.
ɢ𝓪𝓵𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝓼.c𝓸m hosts the latest
Rylie had seen right through her. Every word had struck a nerve, exposing the truth. From the moment Zaylee had lied about the necklace, Rylie had known. She simply never said a word—she only watched silently, as if entertained by the unfolding drama.
Zaylee’s lips trembled, the sunflower pendant burning against her skin as though it had turned to flame. She stepped back, her fingers clutching the chain so tightly that the metal edges dug into her palm. But even that pain couldn’t drown out the sting of Rylie’s words.
Grinding her teeth, she fought to keep her voice steady. “Even if you’re right, the Morgans owe my family everything! Brad’s grandfather promised me—I’m going to marry Brad! You don’t stand a chance!”
Rylie gave a slow nod, her tone maddeningly calm. “Well then. Congratulations.” That calmness only fueled Zaylee’s rage, making her want to leap forward and strangle her.
Just then, the door creaked open. Brad stepped in, holding a glass of honey water in one hand. The candlestick he carried cast a soft glow, slicing through the darkness and illuminating the silent standoff.
.
.
.