Chapter 557:
Brad’s words roiled inside him before escaping through clenched teeth. “Why are you taking this man? He can ride with me.”
“No need.” Rylie’s refusal was immediate, her tone clipped. “The road to HaloFlow Hospital is too congested for cars. My motorcycle will get there faster.”
Brad’s voice softened, though the weight beneath it remained. “If there’s anything you need, call me. I’ll be there. Why do you insist on carrying everything alone?”
“Brad.” Rylie’s voice was calm, almost detached, as if she were merely stating an unshakable truth. “I can handle my own affairs. I’m not in the habit of relying on others, nor do I need outsiders to ‘fix’ anything for me.”
The one time she had shown vulnerability, wounded and exposed, she had been met with the cold command to stay away. She would never bare her pain to him again.
With a subtle tug, Rylie freed her hand from his grasp, her gaze briefly meeting Brad’s rigid expression before she gave the smallest nod. “I’ll be going.”
“Hold on tight,” she told Zander without glancing back. The motorcycle’s engine roared to life, its growl drowning out the tension left hanging in the air. With a sharp twist of the throttle, the front wheel lifted, and Rylie surged forward, leaving only the echo of speed behind her.
The sudden acceleration prompted Zander to gasp, subconsciously tightening his grip around Rylie’s waist again.
Dust spiraled in their wake, drifting down onto Brad’s tailored suit and stern features, marring his immaculate composure with a faint, uncharacteristic disarray.
Brock edged forward carefully, his gaze fixed on Brad’s side profile—shadowed and unreadable. His Adam’s apple shifted as he summoned the nerve to speak. “Admiral Morgan, Miss Owen is acting out of urgency to help that man. It’s just a surgery at the hospital, nothing more… We should focus on uncovering the truth behind this kidnapping first…”
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His voice thinned with every word, growing faint beneath the almost tangible chill radiating from Brad.
Brad gave no reply. He simply turned and walked away.
It was all his own doing—he had told her to stay away, and she had obeyed with precision. Yet, against all reason, he kept stepping closer, tangling himself deeper.
Meanwhile, Rylie reached the hospital with Zander in tow. After a thorough round of sterilization procedures, the operating room lights flared to life, casting a clinical brilliance across the space. Zander was wheeled onto the surgical table, still adrift in a fog. His earlier fear of unemployment had eased, not because of the upcoming procedure, but because his thoughts lingered stubbornly on Rylie’s striking beauty and unshakable composure.
This young woman was unlike anyone he had ever met—an extraordinary presence that imprinted itself deeply on those who crossed her path. As the anesthesia began to take hold, Rylie lifted her gaze to the esteemed team of surgeons, among them several retired military doctors specially recruited by the hospital. Together, they prepared to confront an unprecedented challenge: an intricate, innovative reconstructive surgery that demanded both precision and daring.
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