Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 256

Now, Quentin was suddenly telling her that every single one of them was dead.

"Your parents... my aunt and uncle, did something happen to them too?" Madeline asked, her voice trembling.

Quentin's brow lowered, a shadow falling over his eyes. "Their accident happened even earlier. Long before your parents."

A wave of unbearable agony seemed to wash over him. He cast his eyes downward, his long lashes trembling slightly.

"We only have each other left," Quentin murmured.

The moment the words left his lips, Madeline suddenly pushed herself up from the center of the bed and threw her arms around him. She didn't know why, but in that moment, all she wanted was to hold him, to share and carry that crushing weight of tragedy together.

Quentin looked down, completely stunned. Suddenly, this soft, delicate figure—carrying the faint, soothing scent of medicine—had thrown herself into his arms. She held him fiercely, her hands locking tightly around his waist, refusing to let go.

"I will always belong to you," her sweet, desperate whisper landed against his chest.

Quentin immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his body.

He could feel her heart fluttering frantically against him, the sticky dampness of her tears soaking his shirt, and the incredible softness of her curves pressing into him.

In that exact moment, the overwhelming urge to tell her he loved her reached its absolute peak.

But he forced himself to hold back. After holding her tightly for a long time, Quentin finally loosened his grip. He didn't want her staying up and exhausting herself, knowing she desperately needed to rest and heal.

Reluctantly, he stroked her hair with gentle affection. "Go to sleep. Be a good girl."

Madeline nodded obediently.

She lay back down against the pillows.

Then, she asked tentatively, "Will you stay with me?"

Her mind was an absolute mess, but she wanted to wait until after she slept to process everything. She was simply too exhausted, yet she desperately craved his presence beside her.

Quentin nodded slowly.

He returned to the armchair positioned right beside her bed, his voice a low, steady promise. "I'm not going anywhere."

As Madeline closed her eyes and her features gradually relaxed into a peaceful slumber, Quentin's gaze remained fixed on her, never wavering for a single second.

After a full night's rest, Madeline truly felt much better.

He was breathtakingly handsome, an absolute masterpiece crafted by the gods.

Even though he was only a year older than her, he perfectly fulfilled every fantasy she ever had about an older, dominant lover.

And his physique was ridiculously perfect.

Suddenly, Quentin's eyelashes fluttered, and the rise and fall of his chest quickened.

Madeline snapped her eyes shut in a panic, pretending to still be asleep. She was terrified of getting caught staring at him.

When Quentin woke up, he didn't make a single sound.

Which made it incredibly hard for Madeline to keep up her act.

Just as she was about to pretend to wake up naturally, Quentin's low, raspy voice whispered right next to her ear. "Hungry?"

Madeline's eyes flew open, instantly captivated by the man hovering before her.

Quentin was leaning over, bracing his hands on the mattress, his striking face mere inches from hers.