The Runaway Groom

The Runaway Groom Chapter 838

Over at Jefferson Manor, Henry Jefferson’s funeral was over, and it was now time to deal with Ian Jefferson.

Once James learned that Ian was the one who sent those thugs from before, he unleashed all his fury and indignation on Ian.

Isaac’s phone happened to ring at the time, and as he took it out to answer it, James’s fist landed squarely on the bridge of Ian’s nose, shattering it and making him scream.

Irene heard it even as Isaac started to head outside.

“Yeah?”

Irene was relieved to hear him answer. “What was that?”

“Just James venting,” he flatly replied.

Irene quickly understood what had happened and did not ask anything else.

“I might be home late tonight,” he added.

“Oh,” Irene murmured. “Actually, I was just going to tell you that there’s no one at home. We’re all out.”

“I see. Head home soon, though.”

“Okay.”

“Shall I hang up now?” Isaac asked after a brief silence.

“Okay.”

…

As they alighted, Tommy held Irene’s hand as they headed into the mansion, saying, “I’m so happy, Mommy.”

Irene lowered her gaze at him. “You’re happy because we went out?”

“Yes.” Tommy nodded, his head bobbing like a bird’s. “Let’s go out more, I’ll be even happier.”

Irene gave his little hand a squeeze. “Alright.”

Tommy was so happy he was skipping all the way, and Irene smiled as she watched him on cloud nine.

Maybe staying home for the children was not that bad—her sons would at least be happy, would they not?

She even bathed both children for the day before coaxing them to sleep.

It was 9 PM when everything was done. Tommy put on his bear pajamas, sitting on the bed as he played with the paper windmill they bought from the amusement park.

He puffed at it, propelling that flap even as Irene tried to get him to sleep. “It’s almost ten. Time to sleep—you can play with it tomorrow too.”

Tommy reluctantly lay down then, but he was still holding the paper windmill.

Irene pulled his blanket over him and gave him a peck on the forehead. “Good boy.”

Tommy beamed happily and closed his eyes obediently.

he was asleep before going

past ten after she took her bath,

not sleep, so she picked up a book to read, but her mind

herself half a glass of wine before returning upstairs

she rested both hands on the railing, shaking the pale

small

not drink much and

was too dark

she was sure

front porch and its

then opened the door alighted, his shadow seemingly stretching on forever

lips, Irene called

“Isaac.”

her on the

was waiting

smiled, his usual scowl easing above his dark gaze. “Were you

Irene swirled her glass and

a lot to drink?” he

to

her glass on the railing, she looked at him coquettishly and undid the sash on her sleeping gown, asking

as she said those words, her sash

the air as it floated down, landing squarely on

further and he studied her with pupils as dark as

have more?” he asked

longer fingers took hold of the

gown Irene was wearing had no pants

even that expression seemed to have

time, Isaac was

and his voice was as

she tipped off her outer gown with her fingers, breathing tenderly and alluringly, “You have to catch it, or

stop himself

the wrong meds

I’ll catch it,”

clinging on her shoulders were so thin they looked like they would snap at any moment,

“I’m throwing

held the gown over the railing, and

in return, but Irene ultimately stopped herself, clinging onto it as she exclaimed shyly,

as she was about to straighten

turned to find Isaac standing at the doorway, leaning

“Don’t.”

Irene

Isaac studied her then.

elsewhere… he was not sparing

“Yes.”

up, her lashes

outer gown off her hands. He

and threw herself into his arms. “Did you

her waist in turn, and buried his face in her hair which smelled so sweet. “Know

tightened her hold around his neck.

right and she

what was wrong, insisting that she had