"Finding her is all that matters, no rush."
Remington held back his emotions, his voice hoarse as he spoke.
Ray couldn't fathom what Remington was hesitating for.
He had seen how Remington had struggled these past two months.
Severe insomnia, suppressed emotions, and withering away.
For days on end, aside from the necessary work conversations, he had been incredibly silent. Ray felt that if they didn't find Lizetta soon, Remington's pent-up emotions were going to reach a breaking point. And now, they had finally found his wife.
Moreover, she was currently sharing a room with a man who had his sights set on her.
Based on Ray's knowing of Remington, Remington should've already drawn his gun from his hip, charged in with him, and taken his wife back by now.
But Remington had instead instructed him not to alert anyone else and to find a place to stay?
Were they not planning to act tonight and just watching from afar?
And he's not in a rush?
Ray had never heard anything so absurd.
"Mr. Remington Dashiell."
Ray stood still, tempted to check if Remington had a fever or was delirious, or perhaps had given the wrong orders.
"Go quickly."
Only when Remington heavily patted Ray's shoulder did Ray nod and leave quickly.
Remington couldn't help but take steps closer to the villa where Lizetta was.
The villa's outer wall was low, hardly blocking a man's line of sight.
Through the dancing snow, Remington's gaze landed on the window that leaked light.
He could even make out vague shadows, though not clearly.
But the woman was wearing an exceptionally bright yellow sweater, occasionally getting up and moving around. Remington knew it was her.
He stared at that blurred figure, the depths of his eyes slowly warming.
The snow fell heavier, covering his shoulders and eyelashes, and he forgot to move a step.
Until the crunch of footsteps on snow sounded, Remington glanced to see a figure walking along the path.
It wasn't Ray; it must be a woman.
Remington stepped aside to hide, and the woman hurried over, pushed open the gate, and went in.
Remington sighed with relief, at least the villa wasn't just inhabited by Lizetta and Jerome.
What Remington didn't know was, with Dora's return, Lizetta also breathed a sigh of relief.
She always felt uneasy around Jerome despite his generous help, making her interactions with him oddly tense.
"Dora, look, Mr. Madden brought us lots of treats, come try some."
Lizetta waved Dora over, but Dora glanced at the array of pastries on the table without moving to grab any.
"Mr. Madden brought those for you, Liz, I shouldn't just help myself. You two talk, I'm heading to my room."
Dora's gaze quickly swept over Lizetta and Jerome before turning to leave.
Lizetta sensed a teasing tone in her words and wasn't that grateful for Dora's quick return.
Feeling awkward, Dora paused, then turned back to ask.
"The snow's getting heavier, is Mr. Madden staying over? I'll prepare a room."
Jerome looked at Lizetta, his smile gentle, "Would that be alright?"
In this heavy snow, Lizetta naturally couldn't kick him out.
Especially since Jerome had arranged this place to begin with.
She smiled and waved it off, "You're the host here, of course, it's fine."
Standing up, she added, "I'll help Dora prepare."
As she stepped forward, Jerome held her arm, saying, "Let Dora handle it. You need to take care of yourself and the baby."
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