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.

in her arms symbolizing a treasury of intimate moments. Avoiding

the anger? Be mindful not to distress my dear girlfriend. Remember, she is

shedding Harlan’s touch from his shoulder. A gaze harboring

“What did you say?”

sentiment—Marcus harboring an

in the crossfire, Harlan registered the anomaly, his surprise

for her to remain a mere maid in

an ironclad declaration

her be, or be

gaze shifted to Millie, who had swiftly retreated and

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