Chapter 830:
The servant led him into a room where a woman lay sprawled across the bed, her hair disheveled and the buttons of her blouse undone, exposing a hint of her cleavage.
The sight before him, so deliberately staged, sent a wave of fury through Brad. He clenched his jaw to stay focused and took a cautious step forward, his tone steady despite the haze clouding his thoughts. “I’m here.”
Candice turned to face him, her expression framed by carefully applied, flawless makeup that lent her a composed allure, yet her eyes shimmered with longing and an unfamiliar thrill. It was the first time she had ever been this close to Brad, and the intensity of her desire had reached its peak.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingertips grazing the back of his hair, a surge of warmth flooding her chest and quickening her pulse.
Candice tilted her head, attempting to reach his lips, but the difference in their height made her kiss land softly against his neck instead, her breath trembling against his skin.
His hand moved swiftly, gripping her wrist with a heat that burned through his self-control. The drug’s effect pulsed through him, and he rose suddenly, forcing her down onto the bed, his hand pressing firmly against the pillow beneath her.
Candice gasped, caught in his hold. The sheer force of his presence left her trembling, her gaze filled with a silent plea that drew him nearer.
Brad’s eyes were bloodshot, his breath rough and uneven. Lost in the haze clouding his mind, he murmured over and over, “Rylie… Rylie.”
The sound of another woman’s name shattered the moment for Candice, a flicker of fury breaking through her daze. Yet his ragged breathing and the heat radiating from him blurred her restraint. Abandoning reason, she reached for his shirt, her trembling fingers daring to undo the buttons.
Brad’s eyes, once clouded, regained a faint trace of clarity the moment her hands touched his shirt.
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He remembered how it had always been him who sought intimacy with Rylie. She would never take the first step, never reach for him this way.
As Candice’s trembling fingers went to unbutton his shirt, his hand moved sharply, knocking hers aside. Her wrist struck the bedpost, and a sharp cry escaped her lips. “Brad!”
Brad stepped back, the fire in his gaze hardening into cold disdain. He shot her a look filled with disgust before turning away. Ignoring her exposed form and frantic calls, he strode out, the door swinging shut behind him.
Candice hurried to gather her clothes, stumbling after him. She couldn’t allow another woman, especially Rylie, to find him in that state. But the burning in her body clouded her thoughts, leaving her reeling in confusion. She hadn’t taken anything herself, so why would she feel like losing control as well?
Her self-restraint was no match for Brad’s. Moments later, voices echoed from the far end of the corridor. Fearing that someone might see her in such a state, she quickly pushed open a slightly ajar door and slipped inside.
Inside the dimly lit room, Mylo, his face flushed and his mind clouded from the alcohol, saw a figure stumble toward him. Mistaking her for Paola, he reached out and pulled her into a fervent kiss.
The kiss deepened until it seemed to drown the air between them, a feverish urgency driving them closer. In moments, clothes scattered across the floor as they tumbled onto the bed together.
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