Lizetta nestled against his chest, feeling the steady and strong beat of his heart, her body rigid.

He could sense her silent resistance. A shadow of melancholy crossed his eyes as he leaned down to kiss her slightly damp hair, asking softly, "What did you dream about?"

Lizetta didn't want to share, deflecting instead, "When did you get back? Did you sort everything out?"

The grip Remington had around Lizetta's waist tightened slightly, his gaze turning darker. Her frightened expression and reaction in her sleep were both heart-wrenching and familiar to him. As a child, she often had nightmares.

Wakened by him, she'd snuggle into his embrace and without waiting for him to ask, she'd start chattering nonstop.

She used to say talking about nightmares made her less afraid, piling up little bits of wisdom that were just excuses to linger in his arms a bit longer.

But now, her reactions were the complete opposite. She was drifting further away from him.

the outcomes of his inquiries with her, "You won't have to deal with Edith again. As for my mother, with bodyguards on her, she

of emotion at his

was one thing, but she hadn't expected Remington to go as far as to have bodyguards

to luxury and pride, being monitored by bodyguards day and night would be as suffocating and humiliating as prison for Hanna. Lizetta truly hadn't anticipated Remington would take

this for his

forgotten that he mentioned Edith and Hanna but not

"What about Evelina?"

could be

slightly, her hand moving under her shirt to rest on her

Joy was safe this time,

family lineage in her womb, believing Remington wouldn't

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