The seat adjacent to Cecilia became available as the person stood up to make room, and Mark took the opportunity to sit beside her. With eleven people squeezing into ten seats, the proximity was undeniable.

Mark was pressed against Cecilia, acutely aware of the softness of her waist, though his expression revealed nothing of his internal state.

Involved in the evening’s mingling, he held a cigarette between his slender, pale fingers, not for smoking but perhaps as a social prop.

His handsome features complemented his formidable background.

Here, no one would dare challenge him or pressure him into smoking or drinking.

The room buzzed with energy.

the focus when a tipsy gentleman offered her a glass of wine, slurring, “A toast from Miss Fowler shall guarantee

Her eyes lifted.

tension between appeasing wealthy patrons and

prospect of a Fowler daughter entertaining the investor

and validation meant something to her, and he used to be such a big help to her career… If

eyes of the crowd, Cecilia rose, glass

a poised

Medina, I trust you’ll

a slender hand enveloped hers, steadying the

It was Mark.

gasp

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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