When the Wind is Sweet: The Fairy Tale of Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster-Chapter 611: The Brothers’ Contest

Eastwood had already opened the passenger door for him, waiting all the while.

Brandon Lancaster snapped back to reality, walked towards him, but casually closed the passenger door and sat in the driver’s seat, "Eastwood, you take a cab back home!"

"You’ve been drinking." Eastwood frowned, wanting to stop him.

"It’s nothing, just a bit of alcohol, I’m perfectly clear!" Brandon Lancaster said with a smile, "Rarely so happy, I’m gonna go for a drive!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he floored the accelerator! The car sped far ahead! Almost ran over Eastwood’s foot.

In the biting cold wind, Eastwood looked at the car image disappearing into the dust, gradually regaining his senses, and then picked up his phone and dialed a number...

A deep winter night, unlike summer, cold enough to shiver, few dare windsurf for romance, hence few vehicles on the road.

Brandon Lancaster joyfully sped around the city center, finally parking the car at Adrian Lancaster’s villa entrance, escaping any crash, as luck favored him.

He didn’t get out, just lowered the car window.

Glancing proudly towards—the already lights-off villa, quietly standing under the moonlight, worthwhile—the corners of his lips curled into a cold, victorious smile.

Soon, in his icy eyes, the devil’s flames began to burst.

The kind of delight from imagining everything going as planned excited him so much that he couldn’t sleep tonight.

The car lingered outside the courtyard for three minutes, then roared past! Vanished in a cloud of dust!

Meanwhile, inside the villa with the lights-off master bedroom.

Adrian Lancaster, in a white bathrobe, holding a glass of red wine, quietly stood before the window.

Under the moonlight, watching the car pull up outside the courtyard, then watched it drive away, stopping briefly for three minutes and fifteen seconds...

He didn’t check the time, just counted mentally, preciously accurate.

After Brandon Lancaster’s car drove away.

Staring at the nocturnal scenery outside, Adrian Lancaster’s brows furrowed deeply, a hint of ruthless cruelty emerged from his eyes, and this time, he would surely not hold back, such nuisances should be eradicated, never to wreak further havoc.

"Honey."

From the wide and soft bed behind, came a woman’s groggy voice.

Adrian Lancaster snapped back to reality, his expression softened as he turned to look at her.

Faye Turner reached to turn on the light, "Why aren’t you asleep yet?" Seeing him with a glass of red wine, her sleepiness instantly vanished, semi-sitting up, she asked with concern, "Is something wrong? Any trouble on your mind?"

Adrian Lancaster took a sip and finished it, then put the glass down and walked to her, "Nothing." His voice was gentle, his smile incredibly tender.

Sitting on the bed edge, he patted her head and helped her lie down, "Go to sleep now." Then he also nestled into the quilt.

But Faye Turner still worried about him, yet didn’t ask a thing.

Nestled in his arms, listening to his heartbeat, she gradually slipped into dreams.

The next morning.

Faye Turner got up and went to the wardrobe; initially somewhat groggy, but when she tried finding the pink coat and couldn’t, she instantly awakened.

"Eh? Where’s the clothes?"

She casually rummaged, and indeed couldn’t find it.

Then searched for the black dress, nowhere to be seen, her usual attire, most comfortable and her favorite.

"Adrian!" She stepped into the master bedroom in her slippers, "Adrian, Adrian."

"What’s wrong?" Adrian Lancaster turned and wrapped her in his arms, "What’s wrong, my dear."

Faye Turner reached around his waist, "Have you seen my black dress I often wear? And there’s a pink coat, the one with the hood, I wore both recently, and when I looked just now, they’re nowhere to be found."

Adrian Lancaster’s gaze was gentle, thinking it was such a minor issue.