Chapter 91
Chapter 91:
Rylan’s features were twisted in fury, his anger shadowing his face, darker than the faint bluish bruise marring the corner of his mouth.
This project had been his chance to reclaim some semblance of control within the Wilson Group since Alden’s return.
Yet, it had slipped through his fingers with disheartening ease—the funds evaporated, the land snatched away by someone else.
“Have you uncovered who acquired that land?” Rylan snapped, his voice laced with barely controlled rage.
Caleb shifted uncomfortably, his reluctance to reply palpable. “We’re still digging, sir. The buyer isn’t local to Cheson. It appears to be a foreign investment firm, a new player with a cloak of secrecy so thick that no one has managed to catch even a glimpse of their leader p>
A cold shiver slid down Rylan’s spine. “Foreign, you say? Surely, this doesn’t have anything to do with Alden, does it p>
Caleb shook his head, a gesture meant to reassure. “I wouldn’t worry, Mr. Wilson. Alden’s foreign holdings aren’t robust enough to pull off a purchase of this magnitude p>
His investigation hinted that this new company wasn’t a mediocre competitor—they were formidable, perhaps even more so than the Wilson Group itself. Why would Alden return to vie for the Wilson Group if he commanded such power abroad?
Rylan exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders loosening slightly despite the lingering ache of the bruise—a painful souvenir from Alden’s recent aggression.
He cursed under his breath, the words sharp and bitter. “The audacity of him, attacking me over a woman! It seems he’s hell-bent on siding with Helena to deceive Grandmother p>
In that precise moment, Caleb’s phone buzzed with a new message. His screen flashed. “There’s news about Emily—the one who fled her wedding with Alden p>
Rylan’s eyes sparked with intrigue. “Interesting,” he murmured.
Emily had been the one meant to marry Alden.
𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡:
Now that she had resurfaced, Helena’s days of playing the substitute were numbered.
“Ensure her safe return to her home,” Rylan commanded firmly, his voice a blend of authority and resolve. “And make it clear to the Simpson family that the Wilson family still wants the true heiress of the Simpson family to marry Alden p>
His confidence was palpable; he was certain that Alden would find it impossible to feign a loving relationship with Helena under Frida’s discerning eyes next time they met.
In Alden’s car, Valeria occupied the front passenger seat.
She cast frequent, stealthy glances at Alden and Helena through the rearview mirror.
Alden, exhausted to the bone, had succumbed to sleep, his head resting gently against Helena’s shoulder.
Instead of shrinking away, Helena welcomed his closeness. With a tender, almost protective gesture, she draped a blanket over him. In his sleep, Alden’s fingers were still curled around Helena’s hand, gripping it like an anchor.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she let his fingers stay wrapped around hers, her arm naturally sliding under the blanket along with his—it was a quiet, tender moment that oozed intimacy.
Helena hadn’t given it a second thought—until she happened to glance up and found Valeria watching her with a look of thinly veiled curiosity.
Her cheeks ignited with a sudden, fiery blush.
Valeria leaned toward Xavier, stifling a giggle, and whispered with mock seriousness, “Tell me, does Alden pay you extra to sit through their romantic drama every day p>
Without missing a beat, Xavier kept his gaze steady on the road and muttered dryly, “No comment p>
Valeria scrunched up her nose in playful annoyance, clearly let down by his lack of juicy details.
She had been skeptical earlier about Alden’s ability to breach Helena’s well-guarded walls of intimacy.
Yet, witnessing Helena’s ease around Alden now, Valeria felt a warmth spread through her—reassurance blossoming quietly.
After dropping Valeria off at the clinic, Xavier steered the car towards Alden’s residence.
When they arrived, Helena’s voice, soft yet clear, broke the silence. “We’re home, Alden p>
Alden’s breaths came slow and even, the tension that usually sharpened his expression now smoothing into something almost peaceful. For once, the furrow between his brows had vanished. Helena lingered in her seat, hesitant, unable to bring herself to wake him.
The cochlear implant had slipped from behind his ear, dangling awkwardly. Biting her lip, Helena leaned in, moving carefully as she tried to fix it without disturbing him.
Her fingers grazed his cheek, feather-light against his skin—but despite her caution, she accidentally knocked the device loose.
Alden’s eyes remained closed, but his hand shot out on instinct, wrapping firmly around her wrist.
Helena rushed to apologize, her voice soft but flustered. “Sorry p>
Alden’s grip loosened the moment he realized who it was. “It’s fine,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.
He swept Helena into a tight embrace, his powerful arm encircling her slender waist firmly.
Helena’s voice dropped lower. “Alden, we’re home p>
She also wanted to say that Xavier was still in the car…
Alden sighed, his breath warm against her skin. “Just a little longer.” His face nuzzled into the curve of her neck, his voice rough, low, and somehow magnetic, pulling at something deep inside her.
Helena froze, hardly daring to breathe.
Then, a thought struck her—sharp and sudden.
She hesitated, then whispered, “Alden… can you hear me p>