Chapter 184

Chapter: 184

What? Millie touched her heated cheek. Since when had she grown so brazen? She had been discovered spying on his shower,

making her the laughing stock.

After ten minutes, the liquid symphony of water ceased its melody. Millie drew the inevitable conclusion that Marcus, like a ship

docking at a port, must have completed his maritime cleansing ritual.

Ensconced in her cocoon of quilt, Millie cast an illusion of deep slumber.

However, Millie's thespian endeavor faltered. Marcus, like a specter, sauntered to the bed’s head, lifting the quilt off her visage

with a phantom touch. Involuntarily, her hand sprang forward to reclaim it, only to be thwarted by Marcus.

“Your antics—what purpose do they serve? Do you seek to plague me with chills?”

Millie countered, asserting herself in the silent drama.

Agrin uncurled on Marcus’ lips. “Dare you spy on a man during his shower?”

Millie’s heart drummed a lively beat at his accusation, her gaze swiftly deserting Marcus’, resembling that of an accused party.

“Such slander, Marcus! When would | deign to peep at you? Are your eyes victims of deceit? 1 was voyaging the realms of

dreams, only to have my journey cruelly interrupted by you.”

Marcus’ brows furrowed like a tempestuous sea. She denied his claim and brazenly indulged in her fiction.

Unfazed, Millie rambled on. “Moreover, my eyes have beheld the majesty of many a handsome man. Their sculpturesque forms

are smooth as marble and sturdy as granite, kissed by a golden hue.”

“Many men, you say?”

“Indeed, their contours are not strangers to my touch. Smooth as silk, a sensation that lingers.” Millie's tales of whimsy continued

to flow.

However, she soon realized, with a pang of regret, that while she spun her tales, the image of Marcus’ captivating silhouette

unfailingly haunted her thoughts.

Upon the completion of her tale, a blush stole across her face like the sun’s kiss at dawn.

“Wasn't it you who claimed to treasure chastity a moment ago? Now, you claim to have known many men. Aren’t you

contradicting yourself?”

Marcus, unable to fathom the origins of his irritation, tossed the sheet in his hand over Millie's face. He deemed her unworthy of

him and of his vexation.

Unveiling herself from the sudden textile assault, Millie gulped down lungfuls of air.

With a resonating click, Marcus plunged the room into darkness, prompting Millie’s lips to twist into a sulky pout.

Silence descended, coating the room like a thick shroud.

Millie, eyes ajar, sat in a pool of discomfort. She was left wondering about the arrival of the unwanted visitors.

An hour’s vigil later, the window stirred to life.