As Marcus positioned himself before them, his gaze alternated between Millie and Harlan, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that communicated lethal intent. Millie, sensing his fury, braced herself for the storm unleashed.

His inquiry resonated in a cold, unrelenting tone.

“What transpired in my absence?” Marcus’ directness carried a subtle accusation, as if Millie and Harlan had engaged in covert machinations behind his back.

Attempting to offer an explanation, Harlan interjected, his hand alighting on Marcus’ shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie, his words directed at Millie’s benefit.

“Marcus, there’s no need for explanations. Despite her role as your maid, she is entitled to her privacy.”

“And what are you clutching?” Marcus’ focus remained unyielding as he redirected his inquiry.

a treasury of intimate moments. Avoiding Marcus’

bearing an air of chagrin, “Why the anger? Be mindful not

and charged, his hand forcefully shedding Harlan’s touch from his shoulder. A gaze harboring a potent mix of fury and

“What did you say?”

unprecedented sentiment—Marcus harboring an urge to throttle his

Harlan registered the anomaly, his

admirable qualities. It’s a shame for her to remain a mere maid in your household. I’ve resolved to pursue her, ask her to be my girlfriend, and perhaps even the future

Marcus’ conviction was unwavering; an ironclad declaration

be,

gaze shifted to Millie, who had swiftly

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