Chapter 32

A flight attendant glided down the aisle, her cart clinking with beverages. Seizing the moment, Miranda grabbed a glass of red wine, quickly adjusted her hair, and strode toward the first-class cabin, aiming directly for the VIP seats. Just a step away from her target, she stumbled, drenching a man’s brand-new suit pants in wine.

“Hey!”

Cedric, who was seated nearby, was the first to react, pausing his work.

“What’s going on here?”

“I’m so sorry, I just felt a bit dizzy and lost my balance.” Miranda clutched her forehead, her face a picture of remorse as she apologized repeatedly. “Maybe I can help clean that up for you?”

As she spoke, she knelt by Orion’s feet, her hands reaching for his pants.

The cold wine had disturbed Orion from his light doze. His eyes snapped open to a pitiful face looking up at him, her eyes red and pleading. Suddenly, a fierce glare shot from his eyes, “Scram!”

That single word sent chills through Miranda, causing her hands, which were about to touch his leg, to tremble with fear.

Cedric, experienced in corporate dealings, had seen through Miranda’s intentions from the moment she knelt. Trying to attract the attention of Orion with such a crude tactic was laughable. He hadn’t had the chance to intervene before Orion woke up.

Already suffering from insomnia and having worked intensively for several days, Orion had just managed to catch a bit of sleep on the flight, only to be rudely awakened.

“I’m so sorry, sir, it wasn’t intentional.”

Xanthea, engrossed in adjusting the resolution of her smartphone’s external device, was suddenly drawn by the commotion at the front of the first-class cabin. Rushing flight attendants headed in that direction.

Was that Miranda’s voice?

What happened?

put away her phone and approached the VIP exclusive seats, catching glimpses of

What’s going on?

Orion? Miranda?

kneeling in front

1/3

help clean

aside immediately; we will

glass and her overdone act

girl, always seizing any opportunity to hook up with men,

a tactic, whether clever or tacky, was

“I’m sorry, sir.”

was about to intervene when a familiar

what happened? Why

the flight attendants and feigned surprise at the scene, “Mr. Lockwood, what

irritation seemed to vanish at the sight of her, like a gust of wind clearing away storm clouds, leaving only a flicker of surprise in

Sister?

Nightshade family he had seen on “The Masked Singer.” No wonder she seemed familiar; he thought she was just another employee who had tried to

I accidentally spilled wine on

“Good morning, Ms. Nightshade.”

a refreshing breeze on a summer

Miranda froze.

Why?

her? Or simply because Xanthea was

a misunderstanding, everyone here is acquainted, no need for

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