Alle Kapitel von Love's Redemption: Kapitel 901 – Kapitel 910

What an entrance! Everyone turned to look at the source of the bold voice. A tall woman strutted in, dressed in a mix of luxury and extravagance: a fur coat on top, leather pants on the bottom, and a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her nose. No one seemed to recognize her, and whispers began to ripple through the courtyard. “Who is she?” One of the bolder ones shot Hayden a look and joked, “Is this one of your unresolved affairs?” Unfazed, Hayden replied calmly, “She’s not here for me.” Keira, however, wasn’t surprised by the woman's sudden appearance. Nor did she hold back. “Who are you, and why would we need to notify you?” This remark drew curious glances toward her. The woman, unfazed, swayed her hips dramatically and smirked. “You’re acting all high and mighty already, and you’re not even Mrs. Hart yet?” Her words immediately shifted the attention to Hayden. It was a clear jab at him for not having formally married Keira yet, suggesting he’d shortchanged he

“What did Sasha come to talk to you about?” That evening, as Hayden dried Keira's hair, he asked her softly. He rarely pried, but he must have noticed her low spirits ever since Sasha left and figured something was on her mind. “Do you think the Drago family’s influence has been completely eradicated?” Keira asked, her question making Hayden pause mid-motion. “On the surface, it seems so,” he replied, turning off the hairdryer. “But Thorsten had loyal confidants over the years. It’s possible there are still remnants left unchecked. Did Sasha notice something?” Keira shook her head slightly. “She told me she opened a private bank account, one that no one knows about. She said if anything happens to her—if she’s gone suddenly or meets with some accident—I should ensure the money is kept for Nina.” Hayden frowned, his gaze turning serious. “For her to bring this up out of nowhere, something must be wrong. Do you think she’s worried the Drago family's remnants might target her?

Tonight, Lena had stayed late at the hospital for surgery. When she returned, she didn’t see Aaron’s car and assumed he wasn’t home. Without having eaten dinner, she cooked some noodles and was chatting with Keira while eating. Out of nowhere, Aaron appeared. He was dressed in loungewear, his hair slightly damp as if he’d just showered—clearly, he had been home all along. “Uncle… you, you’re home?” Lena stammered, hurriedly trying to turn off her phone. In her flustered state, she accidentally knocked over the bowl of noodles she had barely touched. She was embarrassed, frustrated, and downright annoyed. What a mess—starving to death, and now the noodles were gone too. Aaron, having clearly overheard Keira's voice message, seemed completely composed. He walked over and stopped her from grabbing at the spilled noodles. “Let me handle this. Did you burn yourself?” “No burns, just scared by you,” Lena replied as she finally managed to turn off the voice message. As Aaron clean

Aaron’s fingers tightened slightly around the glass of milk, his dark gaze flickering faintly. Lena, sensing the tension, held her breath. She was already regretting her words, thinking of an excuse to explain further, when Aaron spoke. “Alright,” he said simply. He agreed. Lena exhaled in relief, quickly reaching out to take the milk with both hands, like a child trying to behave. “Thank you, Uncle.” She wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for letting her go so easily or for thoughtfully preparing the milk. Holding the glass, she retreated to her room as quickly as possible. Aaron stood in place, watching her until she disappeared from view, his gaze dropping only when she was out of sight. Now that he had agreed, Lena began packing her belongings. She didn’t have much—she’d always been someone with few material desires. When she first moved in, it was with the intention of staying temporarily, so her things were limited to what she had brought with her. It didn’t take l

In the hospital room, James held up his phone, snapping selfies from left and right. After examining the pictures, he muttered, “Who’s the shameless person claiming I’m seriously injured? If they have the nerve to say it, I don’t even have the face to admit it.” All he had was a slightly reddened bump on his forehead from hitting the seat—no cuts, no bruises. Yet the unscrupulous reporters painted a picture of him being half-dead, making it headline news. Just earlier, he’d received a tearful phone call from his mother, who’d cried her heart out over the exaggerated reports. “If you feel bad about letting people down, go find a rock or a concrete wall and hit your head harder. Then it’ll be believable,” Aaron quipped, earning a sharp glare from James. “You’ve got some nerve, Aaron! That car I crashed was brand new—just picked it up yesterday. You owe me!” James grumbled, clutching his chest in mock heartbreak. “My assistant will be here later. If you can still walk, go pick up