“Very well, let’s begin. All in attendance.”

Wasn’t it customary for Mrs. Thomas to sit beside her husband? His gesture of goodwill went unnoticed.

Millie’s brow furrowed. Had she somehow vexed Marcus? The abrupt shift puzzled her.

As the meal started, a bottle of Lafite ’82 was uncorked, its vintage whispering richness.

Millie, timid at the sight of such fine wine, kept her focus on her meal, leaving the glass untouched.

Simultaneously, Louis, with an inviting gesture, extended a delicately steamed portion of pork to Millie.

in more meat. Your frame is

conversation, Marcus’ gaze turned, catching

Louis was

gratitude was breathed forth in the form of a whispered,

pork, glistening and succulent, tempted Millie’s taste buds; she

unbroken gaze of Marcus still fixed on her, causing

G E L A ‘s L I B

rustle of rising, Millie trailing behind like

them, the president’s secretary general, with a practiced hand,

your sanctuary for rest.

“Louis, yours awaits.”

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