Brad swallowed faintly, his tone softening even more. “Get some rest.”

Once the call ended, he placed his phone on the table and walked to the window, letting the cool morning air wash over him, calming the emotions her sleepy voice had stirred. The image of Rylie’s resting face gradually faded from his mind.

With a quiet sigh, he shrugged off his military jacket and stepped into the bathroom, where the sound of running water soon blended with the deep, husky moans escaping his chest.

When Rylie finally stirred from sleep, the earlier call had slipped entirely from her mind. By then, she had already landed in Marinth and contacted Kendrick to reassure him of her safety.

When she learned that Kendrick had tried to assign bodyguards to travel abroad with her, Rylie declined, claiming that she was only on vacation and that having bodyguards would ruin her mood. Kendrick finally agreed, but he insisted she call to let him know she was safe when she arrived.

A private car carried her to a lavish villa set high on a mountainside, its sweeping view framed by morning mist. The mafia members who came out to receive her paused for a fleeting second, surprised by how young she appeared, before quickly masking their reactions.

“Welcome, Healing Hand. We appreciate you making the journey. Mr. Quinn is currently tied up with a pressing matter and couldn’t greet you personally. His condition has improved, and he’s waiting for you in the bedroom.”

Rylie gave a brief nod and stepped inside with quiet assurance.

The middle-aged man, his face drawn and pallid, sat propped on a sofa, cushions bracing him on both sides. Beside him, medical equipment hummed softly, ready to track every fluctuation in his fragile condition.

Though his health was failing, Lochlan still carried himself with the composure of a man determined to uphold his dignity.

“Healing Hand, forgive me for not greeting you sooner,” he said, his tone steady despite his weakened state.

As someone who had experienced much in his life, Lochlan showed no sign of surprise at the sight of her youth, only a deep, unwavering respect.

Taking in his presence for the first time, Rylie instantly understood why this seasoned leader had chosen to stand beside her brother.

“I’ve reviewed your medical records,” Rylie said evenly. “My time here is short. Arrange a fully equipped operating room, and I’ll provide a detailed list of instruments and tools your team must prepare. The surgery will be in three days.”

Lochlan’s medical advisors, standing close by, immediately erupted in objection. “This is out of the question! We cannot permit it! Mr. Quinn’s health is far too delicate to undergo surgery on such short notice. If you proceed, he won’t survive the operation! What on earth are you thinking? Are you even as skilled as you claim? You act as though you lack the most basic medical understanding!”

“If I say Lochlan can be treated, it means I have the confidence to make it happen.”

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