Secrets Of The Neglected Wife

Chapter 487:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

Allison was sitting with him now.

Feeling a spark of satisfaction, Gordon leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “By the way, those men I dealt with? They’re some of the remnants from the Burned Islands — those who escaped last time.”

“The Mafia?” Allison murmured. “Looks like they’re keeping an eye on us.”

From an outsider’s perspective, the way they sat together, their heads nearly touching, looked almost intimate. Their quiet conversation blended into the crowd’s hum, leaving their connection a mystery to onlookers. In the shadows, Carole watched them with quiet astonishment.

Gordon’s name carried a certain reputation — a rebel, a figure long avoided by people. But here he was, his tone softened, and his posture casual beside Allison. Then there was Kellan.

His gaze hardened, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the muffled crack of bones the only sound betraying his boiling frustration.

He watched them like a hungry hawk. He couldn’t bear the sight.

He hated the feeling, that raging possessiveness that rose unbidden.

Seeing her so close to Gordon, laughing softly and talking in low tones, fanned the embers of something primal. Instinctively, he considered a dozen ways to eliminate the man.

Swift, ruthless methods came to mind—methods he could execute without hesitation. But he knew he couldn’t take action.

If he did, Allison would hate him forever.

His heart felt as though it were sinking into ice. He felt cold, suffocated.

It was tearing him apart.

But why? Why did he feel this way? His heart was so cold that he could place it in a cup.

“Do you have plans with him, Ms. Clarke?” he asked, struggling to keep his tone neutral.

Allison met his dark eyes, her gaze steady and calm. But before she could respond, Gordon shifted, positioning himself squarely in front of her, drawing a subtle line between them. “Mr. Lloyd, I think you know the answer already.”

He met Kellan’s gaze.

“But it’s not working hours, and Allison has the right to her own time. Need I remind you?”

Between the lines, he was saying, “Back off. It’s none of your business.”

Gordon twirled a petal between his fingers, each slow turn of his hand a silent declaration.

He wasn’t about to let go of what he wanted.

“I’m talking to Ms. Clarke,” Kellan replied, his voice low, edged with restrained fury.

His eyes locked with Gordon’s.

Each man sensed the other’s killing intent. Both were waiting for the inevitable clash.noveldrama

Gordon’s smile appeared innocent, almost too innocent. “Mr. Lloyd, is there a hint of frustration in your voice?” he inquired, his tone deceptively casual. “Though you directed your question to Allison, I can’t help but note that the matter concerns me as well.”

.

.

.