Chapter 702:

“We should finish this without delay. Once it is done, we will finally be secure and have the home we have dreamed of,” Abram replied, giving his wife a teasing smack on her hip and resting a hand on her belly. “Then, no matter where our child decides to build its future, we will go together.”

In the room, Rylie quietly closed the door, cutting off the pretentious stares from the family outside.

She supported Brad, who appeared thoroughly drunk, and tried to lead him toward the bed. Suddenly, her wrist was gripped by a forceful hand.

In an instant, she was pulled off balance and thrown back onto the solid mattress.

Brad’s weight bore down on her, his body radiating feverish heat, and the sharp scent of liquor clung to his breath as it brushed against her skin, making her instinctively recoil.

“Brad?” Rylie whispered, her brows knitting together, her tone laced with uncertainty.

He appeared completely lost to the haze of alcohol, his face buried against her neck, shifting restlessly as a faint groan escaped him. His arms tightened around her with surprising force, locking her in his embrace.

“I think I’ve drunk too much… I can’t summon any strength,” he muttered, his lips grazing the edge of her ear without intention.

The thin layer of fabric between them did little to disguise the rapid thrum of his heartbeat or the searing warmth that enveloped her.

“Did they tamper with the wine?” Rylie asked, gently lifting his face to look at him, worry etched in her eyes. “You shouldn’t let your guard down so easily.”

“No, I don’t think they did,” he murmured, lowering his head into her hand, pressing half his face against her palm and brushing against it with a faint, affectionate rub. “Maybe I’m just worn out. I want to close my eyes for a bit… I doubt I’ll get the chance later.”

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“Then rest for a while,” Rylie urged softly, letting go of his face and giving his waist a light pat, coaxing him to move away.

But instead of retreating, he shifted his weight, drawing her closer as he tugged the quilt over them, one arm firmly anchoring her in place.

Their positions changed in the quiet struggle, leaving her pressed against him, her body resting on top while he lay beneath her. Rylie rested against Brad’s broad chest, the steady vibration of his voice echoing through him, a quiet lull against her ear. “Rylie, stay here with me for a while?”

The softness in his tone, almost boyish in its plea, carried a warmth that made it difficult for her to refuse.

She lingered in silence, listening to the gentle patter of rain against the windows, before whispering back, “Alright.”

A faint smile curved Brad’s lips as he drew the quilt higher, tucking her close until only her face peeked out, the two of them settling into each other’s warmth as sleep slowly wrapped around them.

The bedroom remained still, undisturbed, until sometime past three in the morning when faint sounds echoed from beyond the door.

The latch gave way with a quiet click, and the door eased open just a fraction. Through the narrow gap, a slender tube slipped inside, releasing a slow stream of sedative mist that spread into the room.

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