Karma Doesn’t Sleep The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 565

Amelia blinked in surprise.

She had no idea Ryan could draw.

Curious, she walked over and saw what he’d been working on. It was a sketch of her from earlier, just her profile as she’d stood in the kitchen, but it was so alive, so perfectly her.

Her eyes went wide. She hadn’t expected this kind of talent from him.

He could have been a professional.

“When did you even learn to draw?” she asked, still half in disbelief.

Ryan’s eyes narrowed a little, the hint of a smile on his lips. “When I was abroad and bored. Drawing was something to do.”

He didn’t tell her what “bored” really meant—being locked in a room with nothing but white walls, a chain around his neck, day after day.

“You’re really talented,” Amelia said, still staring at the sketch. With just a few lines, he’d captured her so well. She tried to make it light. “Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d spent years drawing me. You know me that well.”

She laughed as she turned back to him and caught his gaze—deep, steady, totally focused on her.

Whenever Ryan looked at her, it was like he could see everything, as if she couldn’t hide a thing. He knew her better than she knew herself.

But she’d never really seen him.

Not seven years ago, and not now.

Suddenly, that felt so unfair.

“Ryan…”

“Yeah?” He always answered her, without fail.

“I don’t know anything about you,” Amelia said, her voice barely steady.

He’d said those exact words to her once, right before everything exploded on the mountaintop. She remembered it so clearly. He’d called her “princess” that day, too.

Ryan smiled softly. “What do you want to know? Just ask. I’ll tell you anything.”

Ryan’s cooking was way better than hers anyway.

When they finished, Amelia started clearing the dishes, but Ryan stopped her, gently pressing her hand.

“Leave it. Someone else will come clean up,” he said softly.

So she sat back down. Ryan started to pull his hand away, but Amelia held onto it, setting it on the table so she could check his pulse.

Feeling how weak and uneven it was, her frown deepened.

Ryan’s body was like an engine running in overdrive. On the outside, he looked strong—like everything was working at its max—but she could tell he was already at his limit, ready to fall apart at any moment.

What really scared her was that anyone else would have collapsed long ago, but somehow, even after all he’d been through, Ryan’s body just kept going, acting like nothing was wrong.

Where was his breaking point?

“Ryan,” she whispered, her voice shaking, “when did George start… taking your blood?” She hesitated, her words trembling. “Did he… do anything else to you, to make it easier?”