Kingsly Scott sat on the edge of the bed, quietly watching the sleeping figure.
Her hands were folded across her chest, her breathing even and steady, yet her brows were tightly furrowed.
She didn't know what she was dreaming about, but it was clear that something unpleasant was happening in her dream. Otherwise, her brows wouldn't be furrowed so tightly, and there wouldn't be beads of sweat on her forehead.
Was she dreaming about him?
Dreaming about everything he had done to her in the past so that even in her dreams, she was in pain?
Kingsly reached out and gently wiped the sweat from her forehead.
She seemed to sense his touch in her sleep and slightly turned her head to the side.
He didn't move further, afraid of disturbing her sleep. After gently kissing her forehead, he stood up from the bed.
Outside the room, he instructed the butler waiting at the door, "Mrs. Scott didn't have breakfast. When she wakes up, prepare some light porridge for her."
