When those familiar almond-shaped eyes opened once again—
When the clarity within those eyes revealed a rage and indignation that only Skye Brown could possess.
The sparkling eyes glowed with a light born of anger.
That was Skye Brown's hatred for him, a deep-seated hatred…
Painful, yet so vividly alive.
In that moment, Dylan Wellington whispered in Skye Brown's ear, his right hand trembling slightly where no one could see—before clenching tightly.
His seductive eyes, filled with a crimson hue of bloodshot veins.
This was the result of sleepless nights.
And now, his eyes grew even redder—Dylan Wellington, at the sight of the familiar hatred in those almond-shaped eyes, felt a pang of sorrow.
Their gazes intersected in the air just like that.
Though Skye Brown awoke with a scream, her body was actually very weak.
She had been in a deep sleep for days, had a fever, and nearly lost the child.
