Marcus walked toward the window at the end of the corridor, took a drag of his cigarette and glared at Giovanni’s almost lifeless body on the floor. It was obvious that he was still fuming.

Millie rose to her feet, her lips caught between her teeth, a clear sign of her distress.

Marcus, having thrown his cigarette away, approached her with concern in his eyes.

“Are you hurt?” he inquired, his tone filled with worry.

Grasping his hand, Millie shook her head, her eyes lingering on his once-white shirt, now stained with the harsh red of violence.

Marcus was so fierce earlier; almost savage. Still, she understood that his rage had been fueled by his desire to protect her.

to your room. I’ll wait for Derek,” Marcus

Millie responded, “Okay.”

his expression one of hurried concern. Recognition dawned on him as he identified the battered man on the floor as one of the stalkers he had thought dead. His surprise was mirrored in his voice as

let him

twisted with confusion. “Why do you want

Marcus turned and made his way

crossed, lost in a daze of shock and fear.

Fiona was likely the mastermind behind

still raced, the terror of what

should have been filled with joy that evening, but now her face was etched with fear and concern. A surge of anger took hold of him, propelling him towards the table. He swiftly bent

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