After pouring a glass for Bruce, the manager discreetly signaled the woman before exiting the room.
๐€โถล๏ฝแปืฉ๏ผฅ๐๏ฝ.ฤ๐๐ช
Lifting his glass, Bruce’s gaze fixed upon the slightly anxious woman.
“Mr. Thomas…”
The woman’s voice quivered with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. She held onto a glimmer of hope that if the night unfolded in a certain way, she might find herself on the path to unexpected fortune.
๊งเผโฌ๐๐ฎ๐ช๐ป๐๐ธ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ต๐ผ.๐๐ธ๐ถโฌเผ๊ง
This indeed was the authentic Third Young Master hailing from the venerable Thomas lineage. Rumors held that spending a night by his side could lead to a substantial fortune being exchanged.
Bruce’s gaze traveled intently, traversing the contours of the woman’s feet, legs, waist, and chest. Yet, in this very moment, his thoughts deviated uninvitedly to the image of Millie.
What magnetic force was it that drew his mind to Millie?
Unquestionably, Millie boasted a stunning visage, but the world was teeming with exquisite beauties, and he had long become desensitized to their aesthetics.
Perhaps it was Millie’s distinctive persona that held his fascination.
Millie wasn’t backed by potent affiliations, yet upon her marriage into the Thomas fold, she exhibited no urge to curry favor with anyone.
Had this transpired with another, the response would have been one of excessive compliance, clutching the Thomas dynasty as a tree of currency.
Millie demonstrated remarkable tenacity.
Nevertheless, regardless of Millie’s virtues, he could only stand by from a distance. Millie was destined to be no more than his sister-in-law. Even if the world were bereft of all other women, he would never rival Marcus for a woman’s affections.
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Tasting the wine’s embrace, Bruce set his glass aside and, tinged with a hint of melancholy, drew the woman seated beside him onto his lap.
Instantly, the woman’s countenance lit up with elation, her lithe form enveloping him with the finesse of a vine.
Bruce massaged his throbbing temples, his gaze fixed on her smile.
“Would you accompany me tonight?”
The woman’s shy nod was all he needed. She yearned to dissolve into his essence like water.
The following day, within Bruce’s villa
The woman, draped in a mere wisp of clothing, descended the stairs to fetch water, only to be startled by the sight of a robust figure gracing the couch in the hallway.
“Ani”
A gasp of astonishment escaped her lips—-how could an intruder be inside the premises?
Bruce, hastening to don his attire, descended the stairs. He sensed that something was amiss.
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