Chapter 1196

Noreen knew she was in for a wild night.

But she had gravely underestimated just how intense he could be.

That explosive encounter in the entryway was merely an appetizer for Seth. When he finally pulled back, he swept her into his arms and carried her straight to the bathroom.

Noreen was thoroughly exhausted, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. Seth bathed her himself. She was too drained to protest, letting him do as he pleased.

The hot water steamed up the room, leaving her skin flushed and slick. From her collarbone down, she was covered in the marks of his possession. The man was absolutely insatiable, intent on branding every inch of her with his fiery claim.

“Noreen,” he murmured roughly against her ear.

Noreen sluggishly blinked open her eyes. “Hmm?”

The bathroom was thick with steam, and his eyes were dark and feverish.

“Let me take you again.”

Before she could even process the demand, her words shattered into breathless, honeyed gasps.

By the time they finally made it to the bed, Noreen was clinging to consciousness by a thread. Through the hazy fog of sleep, she felt Seth gently drying her hair.

The usually abrasive hum of the hairdryer transformed into a soothing lullaby, pulling her deeper into slumber. Her hyper-organized mind, which always reviewed the day before sleeping, entirely shut down alongside her exhausted body.

She had a vague, nagging feeling that she was forgetting something important.

But she was simply too tired to care.

She let it slip away.

…

Meanwhile, at the restaurant.

The waiter refilled Healy’s water glass for the third time, asking if he was ready to order.

Healy paused his sketching and checked his watch.

It had been an hour and a half since their agreed time, and Noreen was still a no- show.

She must have been caught up with something pressing. Having known her for years, Healy was painfully aware of how fiercely dedicated she was to her work.

That was exactly why he always used business as an excuse to see her. Naturally, whenever they met, all they ever discussed was business. Yet, even that meager connection was enough to satisfy him.

He loved watching her when she was focused. Loved hearing her voice. Loved listening to her ruthlessly dissect market trends. Simply put, he loved absolutely everything about her.

Healy waved the waiter off, delaying the food once more.

Then he lowered his head and returned his intense focus to his drawing.

He had studied art as a child and possessed genuine talent. But as the sole heir to the Maylor family, he had, been forced to abandon such trivial hobbies.

When exactly had he picked up a pencil again?

The thought made his hand stall over the paper for a few seconds.

The very first thing he sketched when he ally resumed his art was Noreen, capturing her exactly as she looked that one particular night.

Drawing her had slowly become an obsession.

He drew her during breaks. When he was elated. When he was devastated. But mostly, he drew her whenever he missed her.

Every single portrait was meticulously framed and hung in a private villa registered under his name. No one else in the world knew about it.

Just as the restaurant prepared to close, Healy finished his sketch.

On the paper, Noreen stood in her dusty blue gown, smiling right at him.

Healy carefully tucked the drawing

away just as the manager

approached apologizing profusely.

as

informed him they were down for the night.

He checked his watch.

11:00 PM.

He had waited for four hours.

Stepping out into the cool night air, he dialed Noreen’s number.

He wasn’t calling to demand an explanation; he merely needed to know she was

safe. Or perhaps, he just desperately wanted to hear her voice.

It rang several times before someone finally picked up.

Before Healy could even say a word, a painfully familiar male voice drifted through the speaker.

“She’s tired and just fell asleep,” Seth said smoothly. “Whatever you need, wait until she wakes up.”

Dead silence stretched over the line for almost a full minute.

Healy hung up.

He didn’t utter a single syllable.

But his chest tightened into a suffocating knot, as cold and utterly pitch-black as the night sky above.

At 2:00 AM, Healy stumbled back to

the hotel, reeking of alcohol. The motion sensor lights clicked off behind him, leaving only his erratic swaying shadow swallowed by the darkness.