Spencer took the punch like a champ, his cheek swelling and throbbing with pain. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, puffing it out into a bulge. As his tongue retreated, the bulge subsided, but the redness and swelling remained.

Adjusting his skewed glasses, Spencer turned to look at the fuming Alaric and said with unnerving calm, "Mr. Falconer seems rather concerned about her."

Alaric locked eyes with Spencer, whose gaze was calm but carried an undercurrent of hidden fury behind the lenses.

A sudden realization struck Alaric. He cared for another man's wife, and Spencer was probably jealous. Alaric was restraining his anger, not letting it burst forth.

It was Spencer, as Hertha's husband, who should be the most concerned for her. Alaric had no right even to show concern for Hertha.

lacking a solid footing. But Alaric, accustomed to a life of privilege

that you are just an old friend of Hertha's. Nothing more than that. If there's nothing else, I'd appreciate

words seemed calm and indifferent, but they

turned on his heel

heart stung, watched Spencer walk confidently towards Hertha's

angrier he had become, the more

longer had any place in

on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and

were

was, at best, an

affairs or to rebuke her husband

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