Chapter 908 Eyes That Melt Hearts
Vincent was a bit too wild and reckless, which paradoxically made his displays of affection seem utterly genuine, without a trace of pretense.
Lily was a clever woman, yet she still found herself falling into Vincent's tender trap.
She knew exactly what he was. Even so, she couldn't help but be drawn to him.
"Let me take you back. It's thundering outside; it might rain," Vincent offered as they left the hospital room.
Lily gave him a knowing smile.
Vincent was naturally cold and detached, yet ironically blessed with expressive, soulful eyes. The kind of man whose gaze could melt hearts even when looking at a stray dog.
While Lily and Vincent each harbored their own thoughts, Rhett's gaze was far more direct—suspicious, scrutinizing, angry.
After they left, Avery entered the hospital room, sat by the bed, and began peeling an apple for Rhett. "Are Ms. Taylor from Powell Corporation and Vincent together now? They were practically holding hands in the hallway."
Seeing Rhett couldn't speak, Avery continued, "They make quite the power couple."
Avery spoke casually, showing little concern for Rhett's feelings. "They're perfect for each other. Lily lacks roots in the Powell family and needs strong backing. Vincent is clearly an excellent choice. As for you..." Avery looked at Rhett with a sigh. "You've become nothing but a pawn in their game."
Rhett grew agitated, making unintelligible sounds, unable to articulate his thoughts.
Avery glanced at him with amusement. "What are you trying to say?"
Rhett's face reddened with anger, his breathing rapid and labored.
Avery suppressed a smile while watching him.
Abuser, violent, psychopath—his current state was his own punishment.
At the Bellagio Hotel, Vincent escorted Lily back, holding an umbrella for her in the rain. He'd rather be soaked himself than let a single drop touch her.
Lily was someone who paid close attention to details, and Vincent excelled at getting them right.
"Mr. Hamilton should understand that I'm looking for more than just a business partner," Lily said, looking directly at him.
Vincent smiled. "I think we're alike, you and I. Like porcupines or wounded beasts, we can lick each other's wounds."
Lily paused, studying Vincent. His insight was unnervingly accurate.
"Get some rest," Vincent said, gently ruffling her hair.
Lily was momentarily taken aback. Someone as scarred as she was truly craved tenderness.
"I can't shake the feeling that you have many secrets I can't see through," Lily said.
Having been hurt before, she couldn't fully trust anyone unless they revealed their vulnerabilities and heart to her.
Vincent remained silent before finally responding, "The time isn't right yet."
Lily smiled. "I can wait—wait for the day we can truly open our hearts to each other."
Vincent nodded. "I'd like that."
Lily waved goodbye and turned to leave.
Vincent watched her with tender eyes that vanished the instant she turned away.
She sighed. Even the smallest things could be put on for show. So, what really proved that a man cared?
In Maple Grove, Bradley had flown out that very day, unable to bear another moment in Silverlight City.
To him, Silverlight City was a place he could never leave behind—a city etched with deep scars.
Here, he had lost his mother, a father in name only, and, in the end, his very heart and soul.
Like a walking corpse, he sat in his small yard, feeling the wind and light rain against his skin.
Night had fallen, and though Bradley sat alone, he couldn't resist checking for messages from Brandon.
Despite having completely changed his contact information—with only Vincent knowing how to reach him—he still wondered if Brandon had tried to contact him.
So he logged into his old Facebook account, time and again, tirelessly.
But there was nothing.
Brandon hadn't reached out to him, not even once.
Curling his legs up, Bradley bit his finger as he scrolled through Brandon's news feed.
He had posted wedding photos.
They were couple portraits with that girl named Theodora. The two of them truly looked perfect together.
Tossing his phone aside, Bradley hugged himself tightly.A wave of self-loathing washed over him—he loved someone he was never meant to love, and still, he found himself unable to resist peeking into his life and news feed.
For several days now, he hadn't slept properly.
He simply couldn't.
Taking a deep breath, Bradley dressed and left home.
He couldn't continue this self-destructive spiral.
It felt suffocating. It would kill him.
Rain continued to fall as his leg throbbed painfully. Each step felt like his leg might break.
During that car accident, he truly thought he was going to die.
It would have been better to die then.
Instead, the first person he saw upon waking was Brandon.
He needed to cut his losses.
He needed to forget him completely.
At Night Charm Bar, a gay bar in Maple Grove that Bradley had previously disdained, he found himself drinking alone.
Bradley had known since adolescence that he was attracted to men, not women.
Initially, he felt panic and fear, unsure whom to confide in.
Afraid of worrying his mother, disgusting his father, and being treated as an outcast, he carefully concealed his feelings until he fell for his first crush.
It was his senior at school, a wonderful man.
But he, too, was straight.
Bradley watched him graduate, secure a desirable job offer, and marry his longtime girlfriend after years of dating.
Bradley wished them well, hoped everyone could find happiness.
"Hey, care for a drink together?" Someone approached Bradley as he sat drinking alone.
Bradley disliked the man's appearance and his ostentatious personality.
He wanted to refuse, but hesitated.
Perhaps this was how he could numb himself.
"Sure," Bradley agreed.
He accepted the man's drink, which in bar language meant he was open to leaving with him for the night.
The man was excited, likely having never encountered such a high-caliber catch.
"I need to use the restroom," Bradley said, having drunk too much and feeling nauseated.
He staggered toward the bathroom, severely dizzy.
"Good-looking, but a cripple. Walks with a limp," the man commented to his friends, disrespectfully evaluating Bradley.
"Who cares if he's a cripple? It's all the same in bed."
They laughed together.
"He looks new here, probably his first time. Let's add something to his drink and share him tonight," the friends encouraged the man to drug Bradley.
The man considered it, then added powder to Bradley's drink.
Bradley vomited for a long time in the bathroom, leaning over the sink. He splashed cold water on his face.
He couldn't tell if his face was wet with sweat or tears.
He felt as if his life was adrift, empty and meaningless. With no family, no friends, and no lover, he seemed fated to remain an outsider, watching happiness from afar.
Leaving the restroom, Bradley was helped back to the bar by the man who had approached him.
The group urged Bradley to drink.
Bradley hesitated, then drank anyway.
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