No answer.
Isaac stopped trying to call. He changed into a set of casual black clothes and left.
He drove to the Lte Mansion, only to find Brittany's room dark.
After sthought, he dialed Brittany's number again.
This time, someone picked up: "Caspian."
With a tone full of irony.
Isaac leaned back into the leather seat, his voice lazy: "I'm downstairs,e out."
"I'm not at the Lte family."
Brittany snorted softly.
"Then where are you?"
"Derek's in Craneville. I'm at the Bishop family," Brittany answered truthfully. "I have a question for you."
Isaac, with one hand on the steering wheel, turned the car around, heading straight for the Bishop family.
"Shoot."
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"Was your car accident because of me?"
Brittany licked her lips. "I heard it was pretty bad. Were you seriously hurt?"
Isaac slammed on the brakes.
The car jerked forward, screeching to a halt.
He rolled down the window, the autumn breeze whipping through the gap, snapping him back to reality. "The accident's in the past.
I'm fine now."
Brittany, hearing the sound of the brakes, felt a pang of guilt: "I'm sorry."
It was her fault.
He had suffered so much, and she hadpletely otten him.
Even the thought of past events, as recounted by Katelin, made her feel for Isaac. If it weren't for her newfound feelings for Isaac,
she might not have felt any empathy at all.
Isaac sensed her mood and reassured her: "It's not your fault."
"We made a promise. I'll protect you for life. It's what I'm supposed to do."
"Just wait for me. I'll be there soon."
Brittany, feeling unstable, leaned against the headboard, tears rimming her eyes. Both remained silent, only the howling wind
reaching their ears.
About an hour later, the sound of a car parking was heard.
"Do you want toe down, or should |e up?"
"I'lle down."
Brittany slipped out of bed, slid into her slippers, and quietly went downstairs.
The Bishop family's hwasn't as grand as the Lte Mansion, but it still spoke of a family on the rise, with its villa built in a
showy manner.
Brittany pushed open the heavy iron gate and spotted the black car parked outside.
She hurried over, opened the car door, and before Isaac could react, she dove into his arms, inhaling his scent, feeling utterly safe.
Isaac instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist, closing the car door with his other hand: "What's wrong?"
Still upset about the accident?
Brittany reached out, grabbing his shirt, her eyes reddening: "Take off your clothes now."
Isaac froze: "Now?"
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Here, in the car, didn't seem appropriate.
Realizing his misunderstanding, Brittany lightly punched his chest: "I just want to see your injuries."
She couldn't imagine how he'd survived such a horrific accident!
Isaac held her hand, his hot palm touching hers, making Brittany shiver.
"Don't look."
Isaac pulled her into his lap, "I'm already healed."
He had scheduled surgery for his scars, and they would soon be restored to normal.
There was no need for Brittany to see them.
Brittany wouldn't give in, trying to unbutton his shirt: "I don't care—"
Fearing she'd really get scared, Isaac firmly grasped her hand, pulling her close, his voice husky: "Don't look."
"I'm not in pain anymore."
"I've scheduled surgery. It'll be fixed soon."
Isaac gently stroked her face, his touch soft but his resolve clear.