Chapter 622:
Kendrick stroked his beard, his eyes lit with both surprise and quiet pride. He glanced at Marcus, sharing a knowing smile, and asked in a low voice, “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
Marcus shrugged lightly. “I didn’t know about her true identity. But with her, nothing surprises me.”
Kendrick’s gaze sharpened as a thought struck him. He raised his voice just enough for others to hear. “By the way, what Rylie mentioned earlier about Frank using drugs… Is that true? Who would’ve guessed?”
The words struck like a torpedo beneath turbulent waters, turning every suspicious and prying gaze back toward Frank and his family.
Frank nearly leapt forward to stop him, wishing he could silence Kendrick before more trouble spread.
“If that’s true, then the sudden return of Cillian’s family…”
“Are they really here to honor Mr. Sean Morgan, or is there another agenda?”
The murmurs spread like wildfire, every whispered word lashing against Cillian’s family.
Kristen, who had never endured such humiliation, burned with rage. The “Healing Hand” had been her guest, and now he knelt before Rylie, making her the laughingstock of the hall.
“How can you be the ‘Healing Hand’?” she spat, her voice dripping with accusation. “Were you two plotting this together all along?”
“Enough! Hold your tongue!” Sean’s sudden slam of the table cracked through the air like a judge’s gavel. The noise silenced the hall, and Kristen flinched under the weight of his fury.
“My grandson’s life was saved by the owner of Aetheris Pharmacy,” Sean declared, his gaze fixed on Rylie. “And that owner is her. I have confirmed it myself.”
Though old, his voice carried the weight of iron, ringing across the banquet with undeniable authority.
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“This banquet, and this shameful farce, end here! The Morgan family has embarrassed itself enough tonight. I apologize to all for forcing you to witness it. Now, someone, see the guests out!”
One by one, the guests departed, but their attitudes had changed entirely. They bowed their heads with apologies to Rylie for doubting her, and many offered warm farewells. Some ladies even went so far as to invite her to their ranches. Rylie, however, remained calm.
She remained graceful, her poise unshaken. Her elegance caught the attention of society’s ladies, and those with sons quietly began weaving their own little schemes.
By the time the living room had cleared and Rylie was ready to go, Brad walked her to the door. His tone carried a quiet gravity. “Let’s have dinner together in a few days.”
She shot him a curious look. “For what reason?”
“The reason?” His soft laugh slipped out, and his eyes lingered on her with a warmth that excluded everyone else. “You were the only part of tonight that gave me any peace. You’re the one shielding me, Rylie.”
Her steps slowed. “Oh.”
It was neither agreement nor denial — just a small, uneasy reply paired with an awkward expression.
.
.
.