Marcus, momentarily distracted from his phone, asked with a serious tone, “What’s the matter?”

Millie turned to face Marcus, his figure enveloped in a brown windbreaker, a picture of refined masculinity. Compared to the grotesque man they had painted, Marcus was the epitome of elegance, which would stir envy in many.

A thought fluttered in Millie’s mind. If only it had been Marcus last night, it would have been a different story.

No, Millie chided herself, her hand reaching up to slap her face lightly. What on earth was she thinking?

“Mrs. Thomas, is something amiss?”

Some speculated that Millie was ensnared by some bewitchment, their gaze shifting between her and Marcus.

curious looks of the executives, Marcus

at the nearby table.

speaking, Marcus accepted the

were done with their meal. Millie scanned the surroundings to find

other, she made her way to an empty seat nearby and quietly

The sudden eclipse of her daylight told her she wasn’t alone; she lifted her gaze to find

something bothering you?”

like startled birds in

her? What twist of fate had led him to this

earlier, calling someone a ‘scoundrel,’ – was that a war cry against an unseen adversary? Did someone provoke your wrath?” His voice betrayed a trace of discomfort, though he endeavored to maintain a

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