When Ronan returned home to the Old Port District, Delores was still in her dreams.
In the master bedroom, under the lamplight, she tightly embraced the quilt, a hint of post-passion blush lingering on her beautiful face, making her appear extremely enchanting in the light.
Ronan took off his outer clothes, quietly slipped into bed, and pulled the beauty into his arms.
His heart was filled with joy and peace, and he felt immensely comfortable.
His mind was completely clear.
The measures he left on Shaquinn Piel and Rudolf Herbert weren't meant to instantly kill or capture their souls; they were to take effect bit by bit in the days to come.
The more these two noble offspring enjoyed themselves, the more stimulated their brains would get, and their mental awareness would become increasingly frenzied.
Until one day, when they surpassed their own limits, that would be when...
Neither Shaquinn Piel nor Rudolf Herbert would even know how they died.
