Chapter 604

Chapter 604

Sylvia stood with her hands in her pockets, looking at Franklin. "Was it

intentional?" she asked.

These two sets of clothes were sent over by Franklin's people, with the

exact same brand and extremely similar styles, apart from the colors.

So was this secretly showing off matching outfits for couples?

“It's not strange I wear the same outfit as my wife's.” Franklin took out a

limited-edition blue scarf, walked in front of her and wrapped it around

her neck.

Sylvia was speechless.

Franklin's actions were very gentle, but his tone was extremely

domineering.

“If you want to wear a scarf, there are plenty in the closet, feel free to

choose." After he helped her tie the scarf, he let go and admired it

around her neck.

The blue highlighted the delicate features of her beautiful and eye-

catching face.

She was wearing a pair of white boots on her feet.

She appeared so elegant that she seemed like a noble lady who had

stepped out of a European painting.

Sylvia couldn't be bothered with this man's bad taste.

Did this man really like her to dress like this?

She felt more comfortable wearing a pair of sneakers and a pair of

sports pants, preferably with fleece lining to resist the cold wind.

With this thought in mind, they went straight to the car.

Jasper was waiting there, he opened the car door and Sylvia got in,

with Franklin sitting closely beside her.

The snow on the road had been cleared to both sides, and many

sanitation workers were carrying cleaning tools to clean the roadside.

Sylvia glanced at one of the workers with frozen red hands and couldn't

help but send a message to Weston.

"Provide hot water, a pair of gloves, and a lunch voucher to all the

sanitation workers in the city."

Weston was in a meeting when he heard his phone ring. He couldn't

help but smile as he checked it and said, "Copy that, boss.”

Putting down his phone, he looked up to see the shocked expressions

of his subordinates sitting around him.

He conveyed Sylvia's message and then continued to speak, "My boss

is truly kind-hearted and beautiful; it's impossible not to love her."

"Mr. Gracia, what does your boss look like?" asked a curious

subordinate.

“Like a fairy." Weston smiled more brightly and nudged his subordinate,

"Back to business. Which route shall we choose to transport the

cargo?"

The car drove on the Urgford highway for about an hour.

Sylvia leaned against the car window, looking at the white world

outside. "Why is it taking so long?" she asked with a hint of boredom.

Franklin reached out and played with her hand. "We're almost there,"

he said with a smile.

His lips curved into a smile, and his usually stern face softened when

Sylvia was around.

His dark eyes lingered on her red lips, straight nose, and watery eyes.

She was alluring to him even when she lazily rested her head against

the car window.

His burning gaze occasionally landed on Sylvia as they entered the

castle.

A maid respectfully waited in the courtyard to open Franklin's door. He

got out of one side of the car and picked up Sylvia from the other side.

Sylvia struggled for a moment but couldn't break free from his embrace.

She heard Franklin coldly order the maid about lunch arrangements

before walking into the castle himself.

Then his housekeeper bowed at him respectfully, "Master Franklin, the

Old Mr. Cantrell has been waiting for you for some time."

“The Old Mr. Cantrell?" Sylvia jumped down from his embrace.

Franklin then let go of Sylvia, raised his hands to straighten her collar,

“Let's go. I'll show you someone.”

“Is this your territory?" Sylvia lifted her eyelids to glance at him.

"Yes, this is MI6," he replied in a cold voice.

MI6 sounded like some kind of secret intelligence base or military

intelligence agency.

"Sir." As they stepped into the hall, two rows of black-clad men stood

there waiting for them; upon seeing Franklin enter, they bowed at him in

unison.

Sylvia was still pondering over MI6 when an elderly man sitting behind

several men caught her eye instead.

Although Ramiro Cantrell was nearly seventy years old now, he held

onto an ancient-looking instrument that must be priceless!

She raised an eyebrow; if she wasn't mistaken, this should be Ramiro

Cantrell - one of music industry's most famous names!

What was Ramiro doing here?