Love Knows No Bounds

Dylan maneuvered his wheelchair to the front of the desk. He stood up and walked around the desk before sitting down. He took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a tissue.

Amos poured him a glass of warm water.

Dylan sipped the cup of water several times.

"Young Master Dylan, why is this happening this time?" Amos inquired, concerned.

Dylan didn't say anything because he was embarrassed.

He remained silent while holding the cup. Amos could only look at him with concern because he knew Dylan's heart was still in shambles.

"Amos, I'm fine," Dylan responded after a while. "Please get some rest."

"Why don't we see a sorceress, Young Master Dylan? Could you be haunted by unwanted spirits?"

Dylan raised his head and locked his gaze on Amos. As a result, Amos was taken aback and forced himself to calmly explain, "You have such dreams, which are torturous for you. Although this is superstitious, it can be useful at times."

"Some things are beyond scientific explanation. You've been tortured for a long time. It makes me sad to see you in a bad mood. Even if you want to scold me, I have to say it." Amos felt terrible for Dylan.

Dylan's sleep had been severely disrupted since that dream began.

He had to deal with official matters during the day and had trouble sleeping at night. If this continued, he would be unable to cope even if he was made of steel.

"I was never a believer in ghosts or gods. Amos, don't come back to the Coleman Residence if you dare to go to the so-called sorceress," Dylan said coldly.

"Young Master Dylan."

Dylan raised his hand, interrupted Amos' speech, and insisted softly, "Go and rest."

Amos was powerless and had no choice but to leave the study room quietly.

After Amos had left, Dylan leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. Some long while later, he sat up straight, opened the drawer, and took out the painting.

"Who exactly are you? I don't have any romantic debts and only care about my wife. Why are you tying me up?" Dylan muttered something.

When he thought of Kendall, he immediately remembered the scene earlier.

He ripped her nightgown, exposing some of her snow-white skin. Despite his confusion at the time, he felt very familiar in retrospect. He couldn't tell the difference between Kendall and the woman in his dream.

He suspected Kendall was the woman he dreamed of.

However, he didn't know Kendall at the time he began having this dream.

Dylan ruffled his hair angrily. If that woman existed in reality, he would have to drag her out and tear her apart to keep her from interfering with his sleep.

It was a shame he had made out with her in his dreams for so many nights. In his dream, he desired that body. He couldn't find her because he didn't recognize her.

Knock, knock.

"Get lost!" Dylan assumed it was Amos and reprimanded him harshly.

Kendall stood at the study room door, and when she heard him coldly scolding her to leave, she remained silent for a moment before exclaiming, "Dylan, it's me."

In a panic, Dylan, who was in the study room, tossed the portrait with no facial features away, not wanting Kendall to know that he had cheated in his dream.

He had only her in his heart at the time, and he would always love her.

Kendall might look soft and loved to laugh. She was, in fact, a self-sufficient glutton. If Dylan dared to cheat, she would not even fight with others; she would simply let him go and turn around and leave him.

She would never share Dylan with other women.

"Are you okay, Dylan? Can you let me in?"

Kendall's worried words could be heard through the door.

Dylan carefully concealed the portrait, then pretended nothing had happened and replied, "The door is unlocked, so come in by yourself."

As a result, she twisted the doorknob and discovered that the door was indeed unlocked.

She pushed open the door.

His study was spacious with several large bookcases. She didn't approach the bookcases because she didn't know what kind of books they were.

Apart from the prominent large bookcases, the walls were adorned with calligraphy and paintings. Kendall looked at a nearby painting and discovered it was a painting by a well-known modern artist with an auction price in the tens of millions of dollars. Dylan had numerous valuable paintings hung on the wall, clearly displaying his wealth.

There was plenty of furniture in the room as well. Furthermore, there was a lounge where he could unwind after a long day of reading.

The study room was not at all crowded, despite having several large bookcases and a lot of furniture.

Kendall couldn't stop picturing a swinging hanging chair in front of the window, a small coffee table next to it, and brewing a cup of tea while cuddling a cat. She could curl up in the swinging chair with a cup of tea and a book. When she was tired, she could gaze out the window at the beautiful scenery. Just thinking about it made her feel better.

"Dylan, are you okay?" She approached Dylan's desk, paused, and inquired.

He raised his head to meet her gaze and noticed her concern for him in her eyes.