Chapter 219

Chapter 219:
Hearing Milton’s remarks made Lambert feel as if he were sitting on pins and needles.
Lambert finally noticed the tension between Milton and Greyson. It took him long enough. Their icy, hostile gazes were like daggers, as if they were ready to devour each other. Lambert was understandably on edge.
To hell with it! Had he just ignited a fire that wouldn’t be easily extinguished? What struck him most was that Milton’s eyes never left Candice.
Since Milton had brought Candice to a business party before, Lambert assumed she held some significance in Milton’s life.
Lambert took a deep breath. Although he usually ignored rumors, one came to mind instantly: Milton was said to have feelings for a married woman. Could that woman be… Candy, Greyson’s wife?
Damn him! To put it bluntly, he was doomed. He had just brought the three of them together for dinner and had no idea how to salvage the evening.
Greyson’s expression darkened. He was startled to see Milton unabashedly staring at Candice the entire time. The possessive gleam in Milton’s eyes infuriated him. He quickly drank all the tea in front of him.
Then, placing the teacup in front of Candice, he said, “Pour me a cup of tea.”
Candice wondered what he was thinking. Couldn’t he pour it himself? Was this some show of dominance, especially in front of Milton?
She’d had enough of Milton’s constant staring, and now Greyson was stirring the pot again.
“Mr. Harman, let me take care of it for you,” Lambert said, rising.
Greyson looked at him with indifference. “I would never dream of disturbing you, Mr. Jenkins. My wife can take care of me.”
Milton narrowed his eyes, his palm tightening around the teacup.
Lambert refrained from breathing heavily, fearful that Milton might smash the teacup, making the situation even more uncomfortable. He watched the back of Milton’s hand, where the veins were revealing themselves one by one.
His thoughts were jumbled, and he couldn’t figure out how to handle the situation.
gⱯlnσν𝒆𝓁s․com is where dreams unfold
Then, Greyson turned to Candice and asked, “Is there a problem? You used to fill my cup to seventy percent on your own initiative.”
Under the table, Candice’s hands clenched into fists. What exactly did he mean by that?
She hoped the situation wouldn’t become more uncomfortable than it already was. Clenching her teeth, she stood up and poured Greyson some tea.
Seventy percent filled, just as he had expected.
Greyson drank all of the tea in front of him again and grinned contentedly.
The teacup was empty, so Candice had to pour more for him.
But Milton kept his hand firmly on the cup.
The whiteness of his knuckles deepened as he gripped the cup even tighter.
He was clearly on the verge of exploding.
.
.
.