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.

the restroom corner, where the lighting was dimmed, Presley was bathed in soft light, dressed in a black suit jacket. Eileen found the suit jacket familiar. Nearby, Bryan was clad in a gray shirt,

be in a meeting at the

now on

the sight of Eileen, Bryan’s posture tensed. He quickly extinguished his

you need to clarify things. Why rush over

confusion clouding his eyes as

dumb. Explain what’s going on with that woman’s suit jacket! Why are both of you wet? Why did she say it wasn’t what

adjusted her down jacket—it was

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

it off, she turned on the tap, and the water splashed all over me. So, is there any issue with

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