Chapter 883: Is That Walker Grant’s Brother? They Look So Alike!

Chloe Reed had kept her emotions bottled up for so long. Now that the dam had finally burst, how could she possibly stop?

She buried her face in Fiona Linton’s chest and sobbed uncontrollably. An overwhelming wave of grief enveloped her, as if countless hands were dragging her down into a bottomless abyss.

Fiona’s heart ached for her. Tears spilled from her own eyes as she held her friend tightly, gently rubbing her back. Even with the comforting embrace, Chloe cried the entire ride.

By the time they arrived at the entrance of Jardinelle, Chloe was completely drained. Her head spun so violently she could barely stand.

Fiona got out of the car and helped her out. She turned to the driver. "We’re here. You can head back now."

"Are you sure you’re okay?" the driver asked, looking concerned. "I should probably help you two inside."

"No, no, we’re already at the door. We’ll be fine," Fiona declined, shaking her head.

The driver relented, got back into the car, and drove away.

Fiona supported Chloe as they walked toward the villa. Fiona had a decent alcohol tolerance; she had felt a bit dizzy when she first got into the car, but the ride had sobered her up completely. Chloe, on the other hand, was much worse for wear. Her crying fit had only deepened her intoxication, sapping every ounce of strength from her body. Fiona had to hold her tightly just to keep her from collapsing.

"Chloe, we’re home..." Fiona strained to support her friend’s dead weight before shouting toward the villa, "Can somebody help!"

They were still a little ways from the front door. Fiona struggled forward a few steps, but Chloe swayed back and forth like a pendulum. The sudden shift in momentum threw Fiona off balance, sending them both toppling toward the ground.

In the next second, a stranger suddenly caught Chloe. The grip was steady and firm, allowing both women to regain their footing.

"Thank you..." Fiona said, her heart pounding as she secured her grip on Chloe. She looked up at their rescuer, only to be met with a shockingly familiar face.

The man wore a black baseball cap that cast his eyes in dim shadow, but the lower half of his face was clearly visible. Fiona’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"You... Walker..."

"You’re welcome."

The man dropped the curt reply and turned on his heel. He was tall, his strides steady, and he exuded an aura of extreme coldness.

Fiona thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.

That man looked so much like Walker Grant! But his voice was completely different. Even his build wasn’t quite right; this stranger was more heavily muscled than Walker, and the sheer coldness radiating from him was enough to make a person shudder at a single glance.

Fiona stood in a daze. No wonder Chloe had claimed to see Walker from the car earlier. Anyone who caught a glimpse of that man would have made the exact same mistake.

Just then, a servant rushed out of the house and helped support Chloe.

Relieved of the heavy burden, Fiona sighed. "Take her back to her room. She’s drunk."

"Right away," the servant replied.

Fiona turned her head to look back into the darkness. The stranger’s figure had already disappeared into the distance. She withdrew her gaze, unable to help but marvel at the fact that two people in this world could look so incredibly alike.

The servant half-carried Chloe back to the master bedroom. Entering carefully, the servant said, "Mr. Grant, the madam is drunk."

"Mhm."

Walker Grant gave a faint hum of acknowledgment. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, white gauze wrapped securely over his eyes, his expression calm and detached.

"Fill the bathtub with water."

"Yes, sir."

Chloe was placed on the sofa at the foot of the bed. Her body slumped against the cushions without an ounce of strength, and she was already fast asleep.

The servant quickly finished running the bath and stepped back out. "Shall I help the madam in?"

"No need," Walker said flatly. "You may leave."