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.

sure he was

was past ten after she took her bath,

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

poured herself half a glass of wine before returning upstairs to stand

hands on the railing, shaking the

took a small sip

much and

it was too dark for her to see what it looked

was sure that Isaac had

into the front porch and its headlights

his shadow seemingly stretching on forever on

her lips, Irene

“Isaac.”

her on the balcony,

waiting

usual scowl easing above his dark gaze. “Were you

her glass and

lot to drink?” he

to feel

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

those words, her

the air as it floated

and he studied her with pupils as dark

you have more?” he asked

hold of the sash just

Irene was

even that expression seemed to have an additional tinge of coquettishness. “Yeah. Want

time,

and his voice was as quiet as it was deep.

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

not stop

she take the

I’ll catch it,”

silk gown slithered off Irene’s body then, baring her fair skin. The straps clinging on her shoulders were so thin they looked like they would snap at any moment, its soft texture hugging her slender but curvaceous

“I’m throwing

the gown over the railing, and it would fall once she

ultimately stopped herself, clinging onto it as

but just as she was about to straighten her clothes, the

the doorway, leaning against the door as

“Don’t.”

good?” Irene asked with an unfocused

Isaac studied her then.

or elsewhere… he

“Yes.”

up, her

the outer gown off her hands. He then casually threw it

threw herself into his

waist in turn, and buried his face in

Irene tightened her hold around his neck. “I doubted myself for the first

was right and she did not regret

they browbeat her at court today without regard for what was wrong, insisting that she had broken