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 Marcus’ gaze, she

of chagrin, “Why the anger? Be mindful not to distress my dear girlfriend. Remember,

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

“What did you say?”

sentiment—Marcus harboring an urge to throttle his

crossfire, Harlan registered the anomaly,

response? I merely noted her 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

Marcus’ conviction was unwavering; an ironclad declaration was issued

be, or

tension enveloping him. His gaze shifted to

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