Chapter 233

Leon had taken out his phone and casually tapped on the screen a few times, coinciding with the ring of the tattooed man’s

phone. Millie couldn’t shake off the suspicion that these two were somehow linked. Furthermore, she recalled how Leon had

seemed to deliberately provoke her and incite trouble at the meal.

Observing Leon’s retreating form, her gaze swiveled back only to meet Marcus’ watchful eyes on her.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Millie contemplated whether she should discuss her suspicions about Leon and the tattooed man’s

potential collusion with Marcus.

“What's caught your eye?” Marcus asked, following Millie’s previous gaze.

Setting her utensils down, Millie rose from her seat. A thought had suddenly crossed her mind.

“Pardon me, | need to visit the ladies’ room.”

Millie darted towards the restroom, her eyes catching a fleeting azure shadow disappearing into the men’s room.

Leon, the man she was following, had just slipped in. From a respectful distance,

Millie anchored herself, eyes riveted to the door, ready for his emergence.

The wheels of her mind were just beginning to tum on how long she might be waiting when the person of interest appeared.

“So you've tailed me once more, little mouse. | had a feeling you would,” he quipped.

As he poised himself to enter the restroom, Leon registered the faint echo of footfalls behind him. It stirred up memories of his

days as an itinerant orphan.

In those tough times, he bunked on unyielding concrete with his only companions, rats. The rats possibly viewed him as a

wayward urchin they could intimidate.

Bold little mice shadowed him wherever he wandered.

A daring few even scrabbled over him to pilfer the hard-earned bread he’d scrounged as he slumbered.

Huh? Millie puzzled over who he was addressing, then understood as his gaze locked onto her.

Little mouse? Man, which mouse? | ain’t no mouse.

“Then to whom else would | be speaking?”

Upon hearing herself referenced as a ‘little mouse,” Millie’s porcelain-like face twitched in displeasure. She found the moniker far

from tasteful.

Leon simply shrugged, his visage turning stony.

“Speak your mind,” he commanded.

The austere face was disconcerting. Millie moistened her arid lips and summoned courage, a serene mask concealing her

nervousness.