Chapter 6

The tall and skinny one fell onto the ground with a hard thump. His body seemed to contort like a ragged sack. His legs kicked out, and then his eyes closed as dark blood seeped out from under his head.

The dogs in the yard barked incessantly.

The bald one was about to escape the commotion when the police surged up and pressed him onto the ground. They snatched the painting from him and handcuffed him.

Holly's hands were still pressed to the window frame as she stared at Bryce, who had fired the gun.

She had been married to him for three years, but she had no idea that he knew how to use a gun or that he was such a good marksman.

In that critical moment, a tiny deviation in speed or timing would have been a deadly blow to her.

Bryce threw down his gun and strode over to her. He carried her off the windowsill and carefully took care of the wound on her neck.

He hugged her tightly, and his fingers softly caressed her face, which was pale with fright. He asked gently, "You must have been terrified."

Holly was still dazed as she murmured an answer.

She had thought she was about to die, and she hadn't expected to have such a narrow escape.

Her heart was thumping madly, and there was a ringing in her ears. Even with a silencer on, the gun had still been very loud.

The entire process had been like a movie, and she had broken out into a cold sweat.

The police carefully put the old painting into a protective bag before putting it into a safe.

Holly mechanically cooperated with the police to make a statement before she got into Bryce's car.

Her legs were still weak, and she still felt dazed.

The night was pitch black, and the country roads were narrow.

The driver started the car and began driving to the city.

Bryce held Holly in his arms.

He stroked her thin back over and over as he comforted her. "It's okay. It's okay. Don't be scared."

His embrace was very warm, and Holly instinctively snuggled deeper into it. She felt bittersweet.

He still had feelings toward her as his wife.

He could feel her responding, so Bryce held her even more closely. He said gently in her ear with a slightly reproachful tone, "Why didn't you call me? Priscilla is so careless that she only realized yesterday that something was wrong. Then, she called me to tell me."

His throat was dry. He buried his chin in her hair and held onto her clothes as he said in a low voice, "What if something had happened to you?"

Holly was slightly startled.

At that moment, she felt that he cared about her. He cared about her more than she imagined.

She raised her arms and wrapped them tightly around his waist as she buried her face in his neck.

There was a familiar, reliable scent on him, and it calmed her down.

She felt a warmth run through her, and her eyes reddened slowly.

On the journey, Bryce's phone rang.

He glanced at it and then hung up.

Holly instinctively knew that it was from Samantha.

After some time, the assistant's phone rang from the passenger seat.

Tobin Fuller picked up the call and said a few words before handing the phone over. He said, "Mr. Gabelman, it's a call from Ms. Cott."

Bryce took the phone and asked, "What is it?"

Samantha's coy voice was filled with anxiety. "Bryce, have you found Holly yet?"

"Yes."

"She must be terrified! Stay with her. You don't need to come to the hospital to stay with me for the next few days."

Bryce assented impassively.

Holly was so close that she could hear every word, and her heart grew cold at once.

He was still her husband as long as they weren't divorced. Why did she need the charity of a third party for her husband to keep her company? This was such a humiliation.

She gently pushed Bryce's arm away and sat down in her seat.

She looked out the window and smiled at her own reflection. The smile and her lips both felt cold.

Everything she had felt just now was an illusion.

It was just her illusion.

The car drove into the city.

Holly said to Bryce, "Send me to my mother's house. Make an excuse for me with Granny."

Bryce was silent for a moment. "Alright."

The moment she got home, Priscilla enveloped Holly in her arms and asked tearfully, "Sweetie, are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"That's good. I was scared to death! It was my fault for being so careless. I didn't understand what you meant when you told me to take that diabetes medication. I only realized what you meant the next day.

"Luckily, Bryce went to find you. If it wasn't for him, who knows what would have happened to you? You're my only daughter. How could I live if something were to happen to you?"

Priscilla was normally an action-oriented woman, but at that moment, she was reduced to a puddle of tears.

Holly lifted a hand to wipe away her tears as she said gently, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm alright, aren't I?"

…

A week later, it was late at night, and Bryce had had a little too much to drink at a business gathering he'd attended.

The driver helped him back home and put him down on the couch.

He got up to get a towel when he heard Bryce murmur incoherently, "Holly. Holly, get me a glass of water."

The driver hesitated, then called Holly and said, "Mrs. Gabelman, Mr. Gabelman's had a lot to drink and keeps calling out your name."

Holly pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Priscilla was beside her and heard what the driver said. She said, "Go and take care of him. You're still husband and wife as long as you're not divorced. Don't make things look too bad."

Holly assented and said to the driver, "I'll be over immediately."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gabelman." The driver hung up.

He poured a glass of water and fed it to Bryce.

Bryce had just drank half of it when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Samantha was outside. She was dressed in white and carried a fruit basket.

The driver said apologetically, "Ms. Cott, I'm afraid Mr. Gabelman's had a lot to drink and is in no condition to entertain you."

Samantha smiled. "That's fine. I'll take care of him."

She slipped inside and put the fruit basket on the shoe cabinet. Then, she said to the driver, "You can go. Just leave Bryce to me."

The driver looked conflicted. "I just called Mrs. Gabelman. She'll be here soon."

Samantha smiled slightly. "It's okay. I know Holly, and she's very good-tempered. She won't mind."

The driver hesitated. "Alright, then."

He took the keys and left.

Samantha crossed the foyer and sat down on the couch. She picked up a cup and fed Bryce some water.

Bryce opened his eyes slowly when he smelt a familiar fragrance.

When he saw that it was Samantha, he was surprised. He sat up and asked, "Why are you here?"

Samantha batted her eyelashes and smiled coyly. "I came because I missed you too much. You won't blame me, will you, Bryce?"

Bryce frowned slightly. "I had too much to drink, and I can't entertain you now. Go home."

Samantha was shocked. Her eyes reddened, and she said aggrievedly, "Bryce, you haven't really forgiven me. I've told you that my mother was the one who took my phone and sent that break-up message three years ago.

"She sent me abroad and kept me under surveillance 24 hours a day so that I couldn't contact you. Do you know how hard it's been for me for the past three years?

"I missed you like crazy every single day, but I couldn't see you, and as a result, I got severe depression…"

She buried her face in her hands and started sobbing.

"I've already forgiven you. Really." There was a flash of annoyance in Bryce's eyes, but he spoke gently. "Don't cry."

Samantha looked tearfully at him. She said piteously, "Are you still going to chase me away?"

"I'm not divorced yet. It's not appropriate for you to be here at such a late hour." He pinched his thigh hard, trying to make himself alert again with the pain.

Samantha caught the action and slowly approached him. Her soft arm began sliding up his shoulder like a vine, and she looked at him with a slight flush on her cheeks. She said gently, "I don't mind."

Bryce moved away and dodged her. "I mind."

There was disappointment in Samantha's eyes, and her arm stiffened in midair. She finally put it back down after some time.

The two of them suddenly had nothing to say to each other.

The oppressive silence seemed to fill the room.

Samantha couldn't bear the silence, so she looked around and finally saw the painting on the wall. She cast around for a subject. "Is that Zachary Quine's original painting?"

"No, it's a copy done by Holly."

"Really? She paints so well. I thought it was the real thing," Samantha said. "I didn't know that Holly was so talented."

Bryce's ink-black eyes turned gentle. "Yes. She's very talented."

"You're even more talented, Bryce. In my eyes, you'll always be the most capable man." Samantha's eyes shone as she looked at him worshipfully.

Bryce lowered his gaze, and there was a thin layer of frost in his eyes.

In Holly's heart, the most capable man was probably Abel.

Suddenly, Samantha heard light footsteps from outside. She remembered the driver telling her that Holly was about to arrive.

Her eyes flickered, and she formed a plan.

She stood up and took Bryce's arm. She said seductively, "Bryce, let me help you shower. I'll leave when you've showered and fallen asleep."

"No." Bryce tried to push her away.

"It's fine. I'm not an outsider."

"It's really fine. You should leave!" He began to sound irritated.

Samantha heard the door opening, and she made up her mind. She pretended to stumble and fell right on Bryce. At the same time, she wrapped her arms around his waist and tried to kiss him.

Bryce held onto her neck and pushed her head away.

However, Samantha entangled herself around him like a snake. He was weak from drinking so much and couldn't push her away.

The moment Holly entered the house, she saw Samantha and Bryce entangled together in a passionate embrace, kissing!

The hands that had gently encircled her waist were now wrapped around Samantha's neck.

Holly felt as if she had been struck by lightning.

She went cold at once.