A wide grin spread across her face as she gestured at the bag. “So, what tasty treat did you bring for me?”

“Grilled drumsticks, perfectly marinated,” Brady said, reaching inside. “For your favorites, I even asked my sister for advice. I made a list of all the dishes you enjoy. From now on, I’ll be cooking all your favorites for you, Colleen.”

As he opened the bag, the mouthwatering scent of drumsticks filled the room. Colleen caught the aroma, and her stomach rumbled.

“That smells amazing. It looks just as good as it smells.”

Oil glistened on the chicken, and a scattering of parsley added the finishing touch.

“Wait here,” Brady said, flashing a quick grin, and went to fetch the dishes. “Let me grab a plate and some utensils for you.”

“Okay,” Colleen answered with a nod, her hand pressed to her hungry stomach. Secretly, she admitted to herself that Brady’s way with food was what set him apart from everyone else.

As time went on, that feeling would only become stronger.

After describing Zane’s background, Phillips shifted his attention to Eric, choosing to remain silent.

“Understood,” Eric said with a dismissive gesture. “Go get some rest.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott. Good night.”

The moment Phillips left, Eric leaned back and let his eyes drift shut as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

He knew Zane was a successful lawyer, but that was the extent of his knowledge, so he had tasked Phillips with gathering more information. Zane’s marriage had ended in divorce, and his young daughter now lived with his former wife.

Multiple ventures bore Zane’s name, including a law firm and an investment enterprise, all supported by the Hayes family.

In his early thirties, he was already a prominent attorney—one whose reputation could stand beside Cristian’s and whose future looked bright.

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By any standard, Eric recognized that Zane’s qualifications were impressive.

Unlike the Moran family, Zane’s relatives probably wouldn’t if he chose to marry a woman who had been previously married, given his own experience with divorce.

Everything appeared fine.

Remarkably fine.

No doubt about it.

But Eric could not shake the sour taste in his mouth as he strode to the liquor cabinet, reached inside, and retrieved a bottle.

He barely lifted the drink when a sudden jolt of pain seared through his temples. “Ugh!” A groan escaped his lips. He reflexively knitted his brows, then dug out a small bottle of medicine from his pocket, shook one out, and swallowed it in a practiced motion.

Was drinking even an option now?

“Haha.” A faint laugh slipped from Eric as he tightened his hold on the bottle and tilted it, letting the liquid cascade over his face.

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