Shrouded Affections Winning Back My CEO Wife

Chapter 1200:

The room was crowded. Everyone stood, looking toward one corner. It seemed like it wasn’t the opportune moment to catch any infidelity. Phoebe paused for a few seconds and then stealthily moved behind Eileen as Jacob, who had just entered, was scanning the crowd.

No sooner had Phoebe stepped back than she spotted Raymond just outside the door. Raymond had noticed Eileen bursting into the club. He didn’t have time to ponder why she was here; his only concern was that he couldn’t let Eileen see Milford. His intention was to get Eileen to leave. However, he had been too late: Eileen had already entered the private room.

“Hey!” Phoebe turned to Eileen’s shoulder and exclaimed, “We didn’t come here for nothing! Look, there’s something amiss with your man!”

Eileen followed where Phoebe pointed and noticed Raymond’s evident panic. She furrowed her brow and scanned the crowd again, picking out a familiar voice amidst the noise.

“It’s not what you think. Come on, Bryan, explain to them,” Presley urged softly. Although Phoebe and Eileen could see Presley, they could picture her shy face. However, the mention of Bryan’s name caused Eileen’s expression to darken.

Phoebe pushed forward again, chuckling, and asked everyone to make room for them. Then, she pulled Eileen through the crowd to the front.

light, dressed in a black suit jacket. Eileen found the suit jacket familiar. Nearby, Bryan was clad in a gray shirt, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. His

supposed to be in a meeting at the Group? Wasn’t the meeting supposed to last

updates now

He quickly extinguished his cigarette and discarded it. Then, he began to

clarify things. Why rush

clouding his eyes as he

people here, you can’t keep playing dumb. Explain what’s going on with that woman’s suit jacket! Why are both of you wet? Why did she say

up at Eileen, who adjusted her down jacket—it was now

give you the two property division plans later,” Phoebe said in a low,

Presley. “She spilled coffee on herself. When she went to rinse it off, she

gray shirt was soaked through, clinging to his defined chest muscles. Presley’s hair was damp, and her clothes were even worse, sticking to her curves. Paired with her