Chapter 703

Chapter 703:

A flicker of something stirred in his chest.

If Patrick was Noah… why did he call Sutton that?

Could it be… he lost his memory? Three years ago, Noah had thrown himself in front of Sadie, taken that brutal hit, and fallen into a coma.

Now, he had reappeared as Hailey’s husband, cold and hostile toward Sadie.

It didn’t seem like Sutton was mistaken.

Amnesia—it was the only explanation that made sense. And it changed everything.

Coyle’s thoughts shifted into overdrive, weaving strategy through shock.

Everyone in their world believed Noah was dead.

And for the sake of his family, Noah needed to stay that way. Coyle turned slowly toward Sutton, who lay broken in the bed, eyes glazed with pain. Coyle’s own eyes gleamed—hard, calculating.

He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Sutton… listen to me carefully. You can’t tell a soul. Not even Briley. No one. Not a word. Understand?”

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Sutton hesitated, confusion clouding his face. “Dad, why? After everything Noah has done to us, why should we help him keep his identity a secret?”

Coyle chuckled darkly, eyes narrowing with a sinister glint. “Fool! If Patrick steps into Noah’s shoes, how do you expect us to gain anything from him? Do you want to compete with Sadie alone or both her and Noah?”

In that instant, realization washed over Sutton.

“But Dad, does this mean I have to endure all this quietly? My injuries, my thirst for vengeance—should I just let it all go?” Sutton struggled to accept his broken leg and the bitter reality that he must suppress his fury and act as if nothing had occurred, despite all he had suffered.

Coyle’s lips curled into a malicious grin. “Of course not, Sutton. Trust me, you will get your justice. He will pay dearly—tenfold. But this isn’t the right moment. We must bide our time.”

A dangerous gleam flickered in Coyle’s gaze, his words laced with madness.

Abruptly, he turned toward the doorway, signaling Sutton to hold his tongue. Sutton caught on immediately and clamped his mouth shut.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway. Briley stepped in, carrying a food tray. Concern shadowed her face as she looked at her brother lying weakly in the hospital bed.

“Sutton, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Are you hungry? I brought your favorite—chicken noodle soup.”

She moved to hand Sutton the bowl, but Sutton smacked it away, sending the contents splattering onto the floor.

Briley gasped, her complexion draining. “Sutton, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

Sutton stared blankly at the ceiling, ignoring her completely. Panic rising, Briley turned to Coyle. “Dad, what’s happening to him?”

Coyle’s tone was firm. “Briley, leave us. I need to speak privately with him.”

Sutton.”

Hearing this, Briley hesitated for a moment before nodding, casting a worried glance at her brother before exiting. Earlier, while outside the room, she had overheard fragments of their conversation. Though much was unclear, the names “Noah” and “Patrick” stood out sharply.

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