Chapter 422 – Second Chance Love of the Missing Groom Novel

“Why don’t we try to lure them out too?” James suggested.

Since the mastermind’s target was Abigail, they just had to let Abigail appear isolated while Eagle kept an eye on her from the shadows.

That just might lure the mastermind out of hiding and they could set up an ambush to grab them in one swift stroke!

While it was certainly an idea, there was no assurance that it would all go according to plan, and Diarmuid would never risk Abigail.

“Let me think about it.” Diarmuid needed a perfect plan, and James understood that too.

Naturally, all that was left was to handle what was right in front of him for now, and he glanced nearby at the group of scumbags.

Although he felt that it was beneath him to even look their way, he had to do it despite his disgust.

He must personally see to it that they wish they were dead, and none of them were getting away from the inhuman torture waiting for them!

They would not only be punished, but they would also be denied their own manhoods!

…

It was not until three hours later that they were done with the gang, and James had his man load them into a truck like livestock and send them to the nearest precinct.

They were all career criminals, and they would be punished by law.

James would also be pulling some strings, so ensuring that they would be jailed for life was very easy.

As the cops took in the men and found them bruised and battered, even hanging by a thread, one of them asked, “What happened to them?”

“They weren’t submitting,” James replied nonchalantly. “We had to get a little rough with them.”

“Oh.”

James made sure to settle everything before rendezvousing with Diarmuid.

Diarmuid, however, frowned—he was heading home. “You’re still following me?”

James rubbed his nose. “I heard you and Abigail visited Erin. Is she alright?”

“Yeah,” Diarmuid replied.

James naturally had more to ask. “Is she doing well? Is the trauma still affecting her?”

“She’s more open-minded about it now,” Diarmuid replied patiently. “She’s ready to get a job again.”

James was relieved inwardly, since he was worried that Erin could not get over what happened. “Good.”

Even if they dealt with the gang who hurt her, they had yet to reach the mastermind.

It meant that this was not really over just yet, and he could not tie up loose ends for Erin’s sake.

He must therefore stop himself from reaching out to her, and it was likely that she did not want to see him for the time being as well.

They both needed time to get over what happened anyway.

“Go home,” Diarmuid said, holding his gaze, and James finally drove off at that.

…

The hilltop mansion was quiet when Diarmuid entered, though he found the door to Tommy’s room ajar while he was heading upstairs.

He walked over and gently opened it to find Abigail sleeping on Tommy’s bed.

As he entered, Tommy groggily noticed him. “Papa…”

“Shush.”

Diarmuid put a finger on his lips.

As Tommy rubbed his eyes, Diarmuid picked him up and asked softly, “Did I wake you?”

Tommy shook his head and wrapped his arms around his neck, his voice soft and raspy as he exclaimed happily, “Papa, Mama is going to sleep with me.”

Diarmuid turned to look at the woman in the bed then.

He had no protests if she wanted to sleep with their son… but who would be sleeping with him?!

No matter how Diarmuid thought about it, his son had clearly stolen Abigail from him!

And Tommy would not have come into existence without him!

With Tommy still in his arms, he started to leave. “You’re sleeping with your baby brother.”

Tommy blinked his large eyes, not making sense of any of it just then… until Diarmuid put him on the bed with his baby brother.

Realizing that his papa was stealing his mama away, he grabbed the hem of Diarmuid’s shirt and got up. “I want to sleep with Mama, not baby brother.”

Diarmuid watched speechlessly as Tommy got out of bed and scampered back to his room.

Diarmuid sighed feebly.

Whatever. He just had to squeeze a bit with them for the night.

And yet, after he took a shower and returned downstairs, Diarmuid found Tommy curled up in Abigail’s arms and even leveling a challenging look at Diarmuid, as if to say that Abigail was his.

Diarmuid stood by the bed, watching his son for seconds, but he eventually gave in. Lying down on his side over the rather narrow edge behind Abigail, he gathered her in his arms.

She seemed to smell him then and turned around to lean into his arms as if by instinct.

While Tommy was left speechless, Diarmuid raised his brow triumphantly at the boy.

Pouting, Tommy pulled the blanket and snuggled up to Abigail, but she was sleeping too soundly to notice that her husband and son were fighting over her!

…

Right after Abigail washed up in the morning, she received a text from Eagle.

[We have the photos. I will send it via email.]

Abigail headed straight to the study in her pajamas and turned on her computer, clicking on the unread email to see Professor Lowe’s compromising photos.

“What are you looking at? It’s still early,” Diarmuid said as he entered just then.

Feeling that the photos were not exactly presentable, Abigail quickly clicked out of the window. “It’s nothing.”

However, her reaction appeared guilty in Diarmuid’s eyes and he frowned. “What are you hiding?”

He glanced at the screen and found nothing.

However, his curiosity gnawed at him the more Abigail tried to hide it from him.

“Come on—it’s time for breakfast.” Abigail got up and pulled him along.

He dragged his feet, and once Abigail was out of sight, he returned inside the study and clicked on her email.

Abigail had reached the dining room when she noticed that Diarmuid was not with her, and she returned to the study to find Diarmuid at the desk.

Actually amused, she asked, “When did you get so curious, Diarmuid Althoff?”

Diarmuid was staring at the photos in her mailbox before looking up. “Is this a vice of yours?”

While Abigail was left speechless, Diarmuid continued before she could explain. “Your taste sucks.”

“…Go get your breakfast when you’re done staring. I still have to go to work.”

She was heading outside when Diarmuid caught her, and she turned around to ask, “What? No breakfast for you?”

“What’s the deal with the photos?” he asked, staring straight into her eyes.

“It’s work,” Abigail replied.

Diarmuid was skeptical—she worked as a medical researcher, so what did it have to do with those risque photos?

Seeing that he was going to get the wrong idea, Abigail quickly gave him a summary. “I’m doing Professor Lowe a favor for the sake of our partnership, though it’s more for myself since I really need his craftsmanship.”

Diarmuid thought that it was risky, and he said, “Don’t do that ever again.

“Got it,” she replied.

After they had breakfast and they stepped outside the mansion, Abigail saw Eagle and said, “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job, ma’am,” Eagle replied respectfully.

Getting in the car, she said, “Let’s head to Hotmesh Research now.”

She was going to call Professor Lowe when she received a message.

[I’m getting married.]

Abigail stared at the text in surprise.

Getting married?

Who sent this? And who were they marrying?

---