A name spoken in such a hazy state of consciousness spoke volumes about its bearer’s significance in his heart.

Rhea had pieced together Marcus’ intentions the moment he gravitated towards the elevator.

His room here was no secret to her; she had visited it in the past.

She arrived at the other end of the corridor via a separate elevator, counting her lucky stars.

Fate smiled upon her again as she encountered a cleaning lady nearby. Recognizing her as Marcus’ friend, the cleaning lady, unsuspecting of Rhea’s intentions, permitted her entry to retrieve some files for Marcus before proceeding with her own chores.

“Why have you fallen silent?”

The woman in his arms was like a refreshing oasis in the scorching desert

aware that Millie disliked him taking liberties

hold of him; his hand was moving of

to

his heart, prompting him to gather his wits and bellow, “Who are you? Speak

bit her tongue, choosing to press closer to Marcus’

her identity and

could Marcus still possess some semblance of reason? Shouldn’t he have succumbed to

in a vice-like grip as Marcus thundered, “Who are you? If

how Marcus, under the influence of the drug, possessed such remarkable strength. Her chin throbbed relentlessly, as if on the verge of

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