Chapter 611
Chapter 611:
Milton knew she was sleeping when he heard her steady breaths.
He glanced at her sleeping face and kissed her softly on the forehead.
The only sounds in the pitch-black night were the soft breeze and the occasional rustling of insects. The warmth from the bonfire chased away the chill of the late night. As the wood burned, there came a cracking sound once in a while.
He held her close, and the cool air of the night calmed him even more.
Slowly, he drifted off to sleep as well.
Meanwhile, in the executive suite of a high-end hotel, Sigrid was on the phone with her assistant, Alleyne Todd, discussing the unexpected events she had encountered in Ploville. Above all, she hadn’t anticipated meeting a woman like Candice around Milton, a formidable lawyer.
Alleyne was Sigrid’s trusted aide, accompanying her throughout the year and assisting with all kinds of clandestine affairs, including some shady dealings.
Sigrid had instructed Alleyne to investigate Candice’s background.
Candice had been an eyewitness to a car accident recently, resulting in the development of PTSD—a situation orchestrated by Alleyne.
Yet, Sigrid’s objectives remained unfulfilled!
Now, she had brought Alleyne to Ploville to support her efforts. Alleyne reported, “Miss, Mr. Lopez left the Royal Garden Corporation at noon, boarding a ONEAIR flight to Wenkin. I discovered that Candice was on the same flight. Upon arrival, Mr. Lopez booked a presidential suite at the Vital Hotel and cleared the entire floor. I apologize, miss, but I’ve been unable to determine their purpose in Wenkin.”
“Understood,” Sigrid replied, clenching her fist, nails digging into her flesh. “That’s fine. Investigate the relationship between Candice and Greyson. But be cautious—all inquiries must remain unconnected to me. Candice is a lawyer; we can’t risk her discovering our involvement.”
Sigrid knew she had to keep her hands clean.
“Yes, miss. Rest assured,” Alleyne promised.
Mᴏʀᴇ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇs ɪɴ ɢᴀʟɴᴏᴠᴇʟs.ᴄᴏᴍ
“Okay,” Sigrid replied, hanging up the phone.
In a fit of rage, she hurled the phone to the floor. The living room floor of the executive suite was adorned with marble. When she smashed the phone, it produced a thunderous crash, and the screen shattered into fragments.
Her fury unabated, Sigrid swept wine bottles, goblets, and tea sets off the table, sending them crashing to the floor.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Broken shards littered the floor.
It contrasted with the vibrant city visible through the window.
As she sat on the sofa, Sigrid’s face flushed red with anger.
“Damn it! Milton and Candice are in Wenkin together?! In the presidential suite at Vital Hotel! They must’ve had sex. Were they embracing? Kissing passionately? Cuddling?” She could almost picture the intimate scene.
.
.
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