Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Chapter 1220

Francis gave a nod and a wave. "It's late. Everyone head home."

"Good night, take care," came the reply.

Without another glance at his crew or a word to the drivers waiting by the other car, Francis ducked into Rebecca White's vehicle.

Sherilyn and Gilbert stood side by side, watching as the door closed and the car pulled away.

"Sherilyn." Gilbert looked down at the woman beside him. "Let's go."

Their driver had already circled around, pulling the car up to the curb.

Gilbert hurried ahead, opening the door for her. "After you."

"Thanks."

Sherilyn stepped forward slowly, her gaze lingering on Gilbert. Suddenly, she stopped and narrowed her eyes.

Francis and Gilbert-how alike they looked.

There was no blood between them, yet by some twist of fate, they shared the same sharp features, the same sly glint in their eyes, even the same streak of cruelty deep in their bones.

Like people joked online: brothers from different mothers.

"What's wrong?"

brow furrowed as Sherilyn froze without

it at the sound of his voice, shook her head, and managed a faint

Six in the morning.

up at this hour, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him as

open. She tossed back the comforter and headed

labeled "conditioner," and tipped out half a sleeping

tiny dose barely let her sleep for

warned

the middle of the night, she'd just lain there, waiting for the right time

ready to swallow it dry-just as she had every

she suddenly remembered there was half a bottle of

on the edge of the

back,

Click.

metallic sound-the door swung

"Pfft!"

Sherilyn jerked her head up. The water in her mouth sprayed

choked and coughed

"Cough-cough, cough..."

gone? Why was

"Sherilyn?"

for his watch-he owned plenty, but only one matched Sherilyn's. He hadn't expected to find her up, let alone

over, hand raised to pat her back.