“Hey! What are you doing!?” Cordelia cried and ran to put herself in front of her husband.

“I’m not doing anything!” The man looked malicious. “Ask your husband how he used to serve me… Hah, he’d put his hands up when I flicked the ash. His palms are my ashtray!”

“You—”

“Pretty, did you think you married some nice guy?”

The man scanned Cordelia from head to toe, his gaze unsettling her.

“Heh, the lowest of thugs. He was looked down on when he was in prison, and you’re treating him like a gem?” the man scoffed. “Marcus, you lucky b*stard!”

“That’s enough!” Cordelia shouted fiercely. “I don’t care who you are. This is a public space. If you disrespect my husband again, I’ll call security!”

The man’s gaze was sharp. “Marcus, why are you still so useless? Do you only know how to hide behind a woman?”

“Uh… is something wrong?” Seth, who came later, looked at the few people, lost and sweating.

He was the most worried about Linda, so he stood next to her. Before he could go close, she stepped to the side to keep some distance from him.

He heard the man snort before

was flustered in rage as she carefully checked

followed. A while later, she bit her lips and sprinted in the direction the man

the pang in his heart hurt so much

to

distance, and tens of men in

for a glance before he got into

spilled from Linda’s eyes as she cried out

over to her,

impassive words. “I don’t know you. Don’t

buzz in Linda’s ears. “What did you

repeat himself but ducked

with her vision blurred by her tears while her heart pained like it was cut. When the last

Thompson! Are you a man? You said that you were going to take care of me for

“Nicholas Thompson—“

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