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.

wait for Derek,” Marcus

Millie responded, “Okay.”

minutes later, 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

him die,” Marcus

do you want to keep this

use for this bastard.” With those words, Marcus turned

lost in a daze of shock and fear. The day’s events had shaken her to

was likely the

of what might have

with fear and concern. A surge of anger took hold of him, propelling him towards the table. He swiftly bent down, opened the bottom drawer, and retrieved a

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