“nder him?” The rage sparked in his eyes as his face twisted into a scowl.


    Seeing him re up for nothing serious, I suddenly felt relieved. “Isn’t that


    what you said, Bryant? That we should always have evidence.”


    With that, I turned and walked toward my room.


    Behind me, Bryant was barely holding back his rage, sparing only a terse


    reply, “Six o’clock.”N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    “Got it!” I didn’t even look back.


    My agreement wasn’t for him but for Mark. I remembered how badly Mark got


    treated at the family chapel and suddenly wanted to be there for him tonight in


    case Violet tried to embarrass him again. It was my turn to have his back,


    especially with Mrs. Ferguson’s influential name at my disposal. Why waste


    it?


    After showering and getting ready, I applied some makeup.


    For an asion like this, simplicity and elegance were key. I opted for a tight


    ck dress embroidered at the hems and knee-length, showing off my


    slender legs.


    At six o’clock on the dot, in mymbskin heels, I was ready downstairs.


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    Hearing me, Bryant looked up. A glint of admiration passed through his eyes


    as he stood up, “Let’s go.”


    I agreed, “Okay.”


    Having parked the car at the front, the driver hurried to open the door for us.


    I got in first, sliding to the far side, and turned to look out the window. Silence


    filled the ride.


    Bryant handed me a jewelry box as we neared the Larson Mansion. “For


    you.”


    I opened it to find an emerald ne inside, obviously expensive and a


    perfect match for my dress.


    Without any fuss, I removed the ne on my neck and tried to put the new


    one on. But, struggling to sp it without seeing, I fumbled several times.


    Suddenly, a pair ofrge, dry hands took the ne from me, fastening it


    behind my neck and sending shivers down my spine.


    I couldn’t help but ask, “Done yet?”


    He answered, “Done.”


    As I finished speaking, Bryant let go, and the emerald pendant gently rested


    against my corbone.


    I glimpsed his wrist and inadvertently nced sideways as Bryant withdrew


    his hands. He casually adjusted his shirt sleeve, covering the wound.


    I asked, “Does it hurt?”


    Bryant smirked, seemingly unconcerned. “Not