“Hello, taken by this windbreaker? Come inside and have a closer look. I’m certain your husband would look marvelous in it.”

Turning her gaze to the shop assistant, Millie swiftly snapped back to reality.

“Y’m sorry, I’m just browsing.” She shook her head and departed with her loaded bag.

As she walked, she involuntarily knocked her head, jarring herself back to her senses. Why had she entertained the thought of buying clothing for Marcus? Was she truly adopting the role of his wife?

As Millie stood on the verge of summoning a taxi, a Maserati pulled up beside her.

A furrow etched itself onto her brow as she instinctively retreated a step. The vehicle’s recklessness nearly encroached on her personal space. The audacity of the driver was astounding.

window gradually slid down, unveiling the driver—none other than Rhea. Her gaze swept over the bag clutched in Millie’s

“Grocery shopping, Millie?”

who else could

lip curled in

you’re reduced to cleaning and cooking now? How utterly

derisive remarks,

the

feast. Hence, these acquisitions I’m contemplating whipping up a delectable fish soup for him. Take a look—I handpicked this fish from the supermarket.

her discomfort, Rhea retorted, “Absolutely not. The

with cooking? Your culinary exploits must be nothing short of

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