Ch. 1071..1080

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1071-Unveiling Hearts "In high school, Steve and I hardly interacted because he was your friend. He even brushed off my many attempts to talk to him, so I eventually stopped trying, and later, we became distant acquaintances.

"Then, we graduated high school." The glass trembled slightly as Savannah struggled to find her words. "At that time, I was head over heels for Trent, convinced that he was my one true love, my everything. So instead of going to university with you, I decided to work to help pay for his education."

Savannah paused, her lips pursed in contemplation. "Until recently, when my mom had a car accident and slipped into a coma, Stella told me that Steve had offered to help me. That's when I reconnected with him."

She lowered her gaze, a faint blush gracing her fair complexion. "When that happened, I thought that if Trent didn't come for me, I would gladly marry Steve and spend my life repaying his kindness.

"After all, no one else had extended a helping hand during those trying times.

He was the only one, so naturally, I considered him worthy of marrying.

"But as we prepared for the wedding and shared the bridal suite, he remained respectful and distant. It was as if he didn't see me as a woman."

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  1071/1090  "I suspect he didn't harbor any romantic feelings for me, as Stella suggested.

He likely assisted me out of obligation as a former classmate and acquaintance, and later, agreed to marry me to appease family pressure."

"So when Trent unexpectedly showed up at the wedding, I decided to follow him." She looked up at Cherise. "Cherry, do you understand why I ran?"

Cherise sucked in a breath of cold air. Savannah's words weren't veiled; each one rang with sincerity.

But these heartfelt confessions hinted at the long journey Steve had ahead in matters of love.

Gathering herself, Cherise offered Savannah a reassuring smile. "Would you like to hear about the Steve Orborn I know?"

Savannah blinked, then blushed and nodded. "Yes."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Cherise recounted everything she knew about Steve Orborn, whose love for Savannah spanned years.

Still clutching the nearly full glass of water, Savannah stared at Cherise in utter disbelief. How could she have been oblivious to Steve's affection for so long?

"Cherry, are you serious?"

"He kept his feelings hidden to spare you any discomfort," Cherise sighed deeply. "He never wanted to burden you or see you unhappy. He even reached out to Trent to plan your escape from the wedding because he couldn't bear to witness your distress."

Savannah's face drained of color. She tightened her grip on the water glass, at a loss for words.

Faced with Steve's generosity and selflessness, she felt small, self-centered, and foolish.

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a knock on the door interrupted them.

It was Steve.

"Cherry, Sav, done talking? I found a corndog stand outside, and the aroma was irresistible, so I grabbed two for you guys."

Cherise shrugged and glanced at Savannah. "I remember that you loved eating corndogs back in high school."

Finally setting down the barely touched glass, Savannah strode over to open the door. Outside, Steve stood in the chilly air, a goofy grin on his face, holding two corndog sticks.

Seeing him like this transported Savannah back to their high school days.

Steve had looked exactly like this, his hands and face turning red from the cold as he hurried back from outside, holding two sticks of corndogs for Cherise.

"You used to enjoy these, so I got them for you!"

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1072-A Long-due Response The same routine played out before Savannah's eyes again. The last time Steve bought a corndog for Cherise, she shook her head and said, "Again? I remember telling you that I don't like these." Annoyed, she would set it in front of Savannah.

He would then smile sheepishly and say, "Really? Perhaps I remembered incorrectly," while scratching the back of his head.

The next time he rolled around, he would still present Cherise with the exact same food and give the same excuse.

Savannah had always thought that Steve had the memory of a goldfish. But this time, Cherise's revelation finally pulled the curtain on his behavior.

His memory wasn't poor at all. In fact, it was excellent.

Savannah was touched that he played a fool all these while just to win her favor. Her eyes gradually shifted from the food to the average, homely man standing before her.

Steve was straight-up ugly compared to a dashing hunk like Trent Boult. She admitted that this had always been her perception of him.

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  1072/1090  Even the other girls thought so, too. When they graduated from high school, every girl in their class agreed that they wouldn't marry Steve even if they were desperate for a husband in the future. Their reasoning? They feared his uncomely features might be passed on to the next generation.

However, Savannah couldn't help but stare admiringly at the naïve and jovial Steve. All prejudice against him melted away, and even though he was grinning like a child, she felt like he towered above her as a remarkably thoughtful and dependable man.

Noting Savannah's lack of reaction, he pursed his lips and glanced at Cherise. "I bought these corndogs for you. Aren't you going to eat them?" he said audibly, hoping to get her attention.

Cherise grudgingly shrugged, "Why should I?"

Savannah gritted her teeth. Pulling her lips into a slight frown, she snatched corndogs from his hand, "I know you bought them for me."

"Cherise doesn't like this. You've known that since high school," she confronted him.

Stunned, Steve managed to squeeze out an awkward smile. "I have a poor memory," he said, giving the same excuse like he always did.

"Idiot."

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, and repeated, "You idiot."

He frowned, "Sav, are you…"

"Shut up," she interrupted, "I'm scolding you, so just shut up and listen."

"…Okay, I'm listening," Steve replied meekly.

"You're an idiot."

"…Yes, I'm an idiot," he parroted, lost for words.

"You're a big, stupid idiot."

"…I'm a big, stupid idiot."

"You're so, so stupid…" Her voice finally trailed off.

Savannah pressed her lips together tightly, giving in to the tears rolling down her cheeks. She turned away, longed to throw herself into Steve's bosom and embrace him then and there.

But she did not. She reached out and wrapped her index fingers around his.

"You've liked me for so many years…" she mumbled, gradually looking back into his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Steve was dumbfounded. He had no idea what came into Savannah. All he could do was subconsciously look up and try to signal Cherise for help.

But Cherise didn't couldn't meet his gaze.

This man had religiously kept his true feelings hidden for so many years. He was so painfully shy he couldn't speak to her without stumbling over his words. And yet, all it took was one afternoon for her to reveal all his closely guarded secrets to Savannah.

Cherise knew she had to leave the scene she had created. Taking advantage of her petite figure, she slipped into the gap between the two and sprinted for the door. "I'm going to look for my husband. You guys talk it out!" she yelled and left the room.

Leaving the two alone, she hurriedly ran towards the end of the corridor.

She briefly looked back and collided head-on with a man approaching her when she reached the corner.

"What's with the rush?"

Cherise momentarily lost balance, but Damien reached out his hand and pulled her into his arms. He patted her head, perplexed by her frantic behavior. "How did the conversation with Savannah go?" he asked.

She turned her head back towards Savannah and Steve's direction and pursed her lips nervously. "It's… going well."

He glanced at where she was looking and saw them standing at the room door.

Steve was visibly tense, his shoulders raised, and his back stiffened.

Savannah stood before him, her hands clutching his while her eyes were transfixed.

Her eyes were sad and convoluted, while the man's were vacant.

"It seems like Savannah is more worked up about Steve rather than being genuinely in love with him, isn't it?"

Cherise frowned slightly. No matter how you looked at them, they didn't seem like a couple in love.

Damien smiled at her concern. He reached up and pinched her cheek, "Let's give them time," he suggested.

"After all, reestablishing their relationship as a married couple after only being ex-classmates for a long time will take time."

After some thought, Cherise nodded keenly. "Yes, just like how we were in the beginning, right?"

"What do you mean 'like how we were'?" Damien teased.

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1073-A Celebration Dinner "Remind me, who watched 'reference videos,'" Damien made quotation marks in the air with his fingers, "and claimed they're able to take charge on the first night of our marriage?" Damien teased, glancing at Cherise's blushing face.

His lips curled into a smirk. "I still remember what you said back then."

Damien leaned close to her ear and whispered, "You said you wanted to go on top?"

"So many years have passed since then. When's it going to happen?" He nudged her gently. Cherise's face flushed red with embarrassment, and she turned away. "Hmph, I never had the chance," she grumbled.

Some specific power dynamics had never changed since the beginning of their relationship. In bedroom matters, whether in the past or present, her initiative or his, he always became the dominant one. Truthfully, she wanted to be on top but had yet to get the chance.

But now, discussing who would be on top was not her main priority.

"Look, Steve bought corndogs for Sav," she pointed out, looking at her husband. "I'm hungry too!"

Damien chuckled, "You want to corndogs too?"

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  1073/1090  Cherise glared at him, "That's not what I meant!"

In high school, she always allowed Savannah to eat the corndogs Steve bought for her by refraining from eating any. The sight of corndogs reminded her of her attempts as Steve's wing-woman, making the cringy memories flood and kill her appetite.

"Then let's get some drumsticks," Damien suggested with an endearing smile.

"There's a restaurant on the second floor of this hotel that serves drumsticks.

Is that all right with you?"

She nodded in satisfaction, "Drumsticks will do!"

"I want alcohol, too!" she added.

Damien raised his eyebrows. "Alcohol?"

"Yup! Let's raise a toast to me finally regaining my memory and bringing down the law upon Gwenn Tanner and Sebastian Weiss!" Cherise proposed, her eyes beaming. "Joyful occasions are supposed to be celebrated, no?"

Having endured one of the most stressful periods of her life, just for one night, she longed to release all her worries and simply let herself become intoxicated.

"Mhm, sounds good," Damien relented, relating to her troubles. "Well, the last time you saw Savannah and Steve was seven or eight years ago, right? You should catch up with each other."

Cherise nodded, "Then let's get drunk tonight in Calais! We'll only go back to Shawbury tomorrow."

"Okay," Damien responded.

Night fell. As Damien had requested, Mr. Hampson prepared a rich banquet with Cherise's favorite dishes and some wine. He knew Cherise couldn't hold her liquor, so he ensured the wine was rich but not intoxicating.

"Woah, look at how well Mr. Lenoir treats Cherry!" Steve remarked as he moved to his seat, admiring a table full of mouth-watering dishes.

"Don't bluff!" Cherise said with a smile, "You treat Sav like a princess, too!"

Savannah blushed. "Don't tease me," she pleaded as she took the opposite seat from her.

Savannah's embarrassed response relieved Cherise. Her bashful reaction meant that she was getting invested in Steve's relationship. Savannah's previous relationship ended in agony, but if she stuck around Steve, Cherise knew that she could regain her footing in no time. She raised her glass for a toast and yelled, "To our reunion!"

"To our reunion!" Steve raised his glass, clinking it with Cherise's.

After a few rounds of drinks, Savannah started to feel drowsy from the effects of the alcohol and laid her head on Steve's shoulder. Suddenly, her phone rang with a video call from Stella Page. She picked it up immediately.

"Sav!" Stella's voice came through angrily. "Are you still with Trent Boult? I'm warning you, break up now!"

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1074-Matching Knife Wound "Did you hear? Ariana paid a visit to Trent's new abode with her partner today!

"Eight years, nearly on the brink of matrimony, yet what's to show? All of his family members are oblivious to your existence!

"All those years of toil, stacking coins to pave Trent's collegiate path and not a whisper to his folks about you!

"They still believe he's a lone ranger!

"Recall when he jetted off for New Year's last time?

"Word was, he cut his visit short to rendezvous with the village chief's daughter for a blind liaison!

"And now, she's twiddling her thumbs, awaiting his return to finish the marriage procedures!

"Sav, please wake up and sever your ties with him. Don't let him string you along any further!"

Stella's admonitions only deepened Savannah's unease, already exacerbated by the alcohol coursing through her veins.

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  1074/1090  Tears trickled down silently, "He and I… have parted ways," Savannah said.

She ought to have seen it coming… For eight long years, the man had been by her side, yet he had never once brought her to visit his family for reasons now painfully clear…

"It's for the best that you've split up!" Stella exhaled heavily, "Just stick with Steve! Though that lad might not be your typical heartthrob, and he might have a one-track mind, he's genuinely smitten with you! You won't stumble upon another soul as blindly dedicated as him!"

Stella's words were sincere, devoid of malice, yet they struck a discordant note when Steve overheard them.

Snatching up the phone, he demanded, "What do you mean by that?"

Caught off guard, Stella gaped, her eyes meeting Steve's through the video call. She saw that Savannah was nestled against his shoulder, "Uh…uh…I never called! Bye!"

And with that, she hastily terminated the call.

A flush of crimson stained Steve's cheeks.

Meanwhile, across the table, Cherise was seated and watching the spectacle before her. She laughed uproariously until tears cascaded down her cheeks.

That evening, she indulged in copious amounts of alcohol.

It wasn't merely due to the resurgence of her memories but also in celebration of her high school companions finding their footing and the conclusive resolution between Sebastian and Gwenn.

As the night wore on and her consumption escalated, she became so inebriated that the details of her whereabouts faded into a distant memory.

All she retained was the faint recollection of Damien escorting her back to her quarters.

Beyond that point, her memory was a blank canvas.

Throughout that night, she traversed the expanse of a lengthy dream, one where she found herself abruptly torn from Damien.

Within this dream realm, she became ensnared in a dimly-lit abyss, devoid of any attentive souls, with no echo to her pleas.

Frantically, she cried out Damien's name, yet her desperate calls fell on deaf ears, each reverberation fading into the silent void.

Cherise surfaced from her slumber, gasping for air, her heart hammering fiercely against her ribcage.

"Bad dream?" the man cradling her inquired, a faint furrow marring his brow.

"Mhm…" She pressed her lips together, seeking solace in his embrace, and was poised to speak when a knock reverberated through the door.

The door creaked open, revealing a contingent of uniformed police officers.

"Ms. Shaw, we're from the Calais Police Department, and we have reason to believe you're linked to a homicide case. We have to take you back with us for questioning," one of the officers stated gravely.

Cherise's brow furrowed, but before she could interject, Damien swiftly positioned himself in front of her. "She's not involved in this."

The officer persisted, "But…" His gaze shifted back to Cherise, his expression stern. "The fatal wound found on Sebastian matches the type inflicted by the surgical knife Ms. Shaw is known to carry."

Cherise stared incredulously at the officer before her, her mouth agape in disbelief, rendered momentarily speechless by the revelation.

"You're saying… Sebastian, he…

"He's…been found dead!?"

The police officer's frown deepened, casting a frigid glare at Cherise.

"Indeed."

Cherise vehemently shook her head. "But… wasn't he taken into custody by the police yesterday?"

The previous day, she distinctly recalled witnessing Trent, Gwenn, and Sebastian being escorted away by law enforcement.

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1075-A Convenient Setup How could things have escalated so far beyond comprehension?

"It's a convoluted situation," the police officer commenced, drawing a deep breath before reluctantly elaborating the circumstances to Cherise. "You've got it right that Sebastian was apprehended yesterday. However, owing to his implication in economic offenses within Suncrest City, following consultations with authorities there, it was determined that he would be transferred for his impending trial within the span of two days."

"Regrettably, during the transfer process, a violent altercation ensued.

Sebastian seized an opportunity to flee, and around four o'clock in the wee hours of the morning, his body was subsequently discovered deceased near a hotel dumpster."

"Furthermore," the officer added after a short pause, retrieving his phone and displaying a video for Cherise's scrutiny. In the footage, she was depicted wielding a surgical knife perilously close to Sebastian's neck. "This footage was forwarded to our precinct, and the injuries found on Sebastian's body correlate with those inflicted by a surgical blade. The exact same type of knife was retrieved from the dumpster where his remains were uncovered."

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  1075/1090  Following the presentation of the incriminating video, the officer locked eyes with Cherise. "Cherise, based on the evidence at hand, we have no choice but to harbor suspicions regarding your role in Sebastian's demise. We hope you are willing to fully cooperate with our inquiry."

Cherise's gaze remained fixed on the officer, her mind reeling as she grappled with the staggering accusations leveled against her.

They suspected her of being Sebastian's murderer just from some mere imitation of the surgical knife she used?

While she conceded to brandishing the knife in a moment of desperation, it had been a mere ruse. A calculated maneuver to deter him from his transgressions. She harbored no intent to inflict harm upon him.

As a practitioner of medicine, Cherise adhered staunchly to the principles of nonviolence, recognizing it as antithetical to her professional code of ethics.

And yet, despite her steadfast convictions, she found herself caught in the plot of a murder accusation.

With a face drawn taut and lips pressed into a thin line, she begrudgingly agreed to the authorities' request, preparing herself to undergo further interrogation.

The entire scenario reeked of orchestration.

Who in their right mind would orchestrate a murder in such a clumsy manner, leaving both the victim's body and the murder weapon in close proximity to each other?

The synchronicity of the video's emergence directly following Sebastian's demise appeared far too convenient to dismiss as mere happenstance.

Lacking immediate means to prove that she was innocent, Cherise resolved to comply with the authorities, albeit with a gnawing sense of skepticism lingering in her mind.

"Cherry," Damien interjected, enfolding her into his arms. He fixed a steely gaze on the police officer, declaring firmly, "You're blaming an innocent victim."

"Regardless of her innocence, we must await the outcome of our investigation," the officer responded, his tone courteous as he offered a placid smile. "Mr. Lenoir, I trust that, given your influence, you wouldn't impede official procedures."

"If your wife is unjustly implicated, your priority should be vindicating her rather than engaging in conflict."

He then cocked his head at Cherise, directing his gaze at her. "Do you agree, Mrs. Lenoir?"

With Damien's tacit agreement, the officer pressed on, "Don't worry, we will treat Ms. Shaw with utmost consideration. I find it difficult to fathom that a doctor such as her would be involved in such an act."

He then retrieved a pair of handcuffs, directing his attention to Cherise.

"Would you prefer me to apply these restraints, or would you rather do it yourself?"

Cherise drew a deep breath, steeling herself for the inevitable. Now was not the moment for defiance against the police.

Sebastian lay lifeless, the evidence converging uncomfortably toward her.

Were she in their position, she would likely proceed in the same manner.

Ultimately, Cherise grasped that the police were merely executing their duty.

Yet, she couldn't suppress her curiosity. "Do you have any leads on who sent you the video?"

The timing of the video's emergence sparked doubts regarding the sender's potential role in Sebastian's demise.

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1076-Inquiry and Allegations It was highly probable that the individual responsible had significant ties to Gwenn. Otherwise, obtaining the video, which Damien had already eradicated, would be improbable.

"We're currently in the midst of an inquiry," the police responded with assurance. "Ms. Shaw, have faith; we will establish your innocence."

"Understood," Cherise responded with a smile, acknowledging the officer before directing her gaze to Damien. "It's ok, I'll await your return."

Her parting phrase cast a shadow over Damien's face, his eyes clouding with concern. Drawing a deep breath, he concurred, "I'll handle it swiftly."

Once Cherise was escorted from sight, Damien released a weighty exhale, reaching for his phone to dispatch a message to Otto and Mr. Hampson, 'Secure the surveillance footage from the hotel and its vicinity during the night.' He was determined to unveil the identity of the individual complicit in Sebastian's escape, subsequent demise, and the calculated framing of Cherise.

"Mr. Lenoir!"

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  1076/1090  After concluding the call, Steve burst into the room, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "I just got wind of Sebastian's body being found near the hotel dumpsters last night!"

His arrival was so abrupt that he was still audibly panting. "How's Cherry holding up?"

"If he didn't swing by to see Savannah, then he must've headed straight for Cherry," Steve persisted, preempting any response from Damien.

"I quizzed Sav about it, and she swore he didn't drop by!"

"Did Sebastian pay Cherry a visit last night?"

As he finished speaking, Steve's brows knitted in concern, sweeping his gaze around the room. "Hold on, where's Cherry?"

"Cherry was apprehended by the authorities because she's now the prime suspect for Sebastian's demise," Damien disclosed in a composed manner.

The creases on his brow deepened as he recounted the unfolding events to Steve. Then, with a gravity-laden tone, he implored, "I require your assistance."

Startled, Steve stumbled back a few steps, caught off guard by the news.

His shock stemmed from two factors.

Steve found himself struck by two distinct shocks.

Firstly, the revelation that Sebastian, alive and seemingly unscathed just the day prior, was now deceased sent a jolt of disbelief through him. And to compound the astonishment, Cherise, of all people, was now accused of being his murderer?

Moreover, he couldn't help but marvel at Damien's stoic composure. Despite the abrupt and alarming turn of events, Damien maintained a composed demeanor, earning Steve's admiration for his ability to navigate such tumult with apparent level-headedness.

Steve understood the profound bond between Damien and Cherise, one that surpassed the connection with Savannah in depth and complexity. Their shared history and intimate experiences were unfathomable to outsiders.

Yet, in the face of such dire circumstances, Damien exuded a remarkable tranquility.

There was no hint of panic in his demeanor, no flicker of agitation in his eyes.

He always radiated an air of unwavering control.

Poised, collected, and seemingly aloof to worldly matters.

His unwavering composure was a quality Steve could only covet, an unattainable ideal that seemed perpetually beyond his grasp.

Steve's lips tightened into a tight line as he regarded Damien with solemnity.

"What can I do to help?"

With a subtle furrow of his brow, Damien lifted a pen and wordlessly transcribed a number of duties, sliding the list toward Steve. "Here."

Steve opened his mouth to probe for more details, but Damien halted him with a gesture. "I opted to write it down instead of verbalizing it. You grasp the rationale behind that, correct?"

Instantly, understanding struck Steve!

Steve swiftly stowed away the list, lifting his gaze to meet Damien's with a renewed sense of respect. "I'll be there for you whenever you need me."

"I appreciate it," Damien acknowledged with a grateful smile.

With that, Damien settled back into the sofa, easing into a state of rest, his eyes drifting shut.

As Steve headed toward the door, a lingering glance over his shoulder drew his attention back to Damien.

Though Damien's face remained tranquil, his eyes firmly shut, there was a subtle tension evident in the clenched fist at his side.For all his poise and composure, Steve recognized that Damien, like any man, bore a vulnerable facet beneath the surface.

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1077-Unwanted Eyes Indeed, Damien's vulnerability likely stemmed from his profound connection with Cherise.

--------- "I'm heading there too!" Savannah's voice resonated through the room.

Upon Steve's announcement of his plan to visit Cherise at the police station, Savannah swiftly rose from her seat. "I can't shake this feeling of unease without her by my side…"

Steve pinched his nose bridge. "I intend to visit her illicitly."

"If you accompany me, it would only draw us unwanted eyes," he added, his tone firm yet considerate.

Savannah pouted defiantly. "Why does it matter if it draws us unwanted eyes?"

"As cherished friends, isn't it our duty to stand by someone unjustly accused?"

Steve responded with a helpless shake of his head, accompanied by a heavy sigh.

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  1077/1090  "You brought it up yourself; Cherry was framed," Steve explained.

"The person with the precise knowledge of yesterday's events, who conveniently pinned the blame on Cherry, must be someone within our midst."

"We're exposed while they operate from the shadows. I don't want to entangle you in this."

"Damien and I will have to increase our efforts even more should you find yourself targeted again."

Steve's eyes were clear and open as he relayed the words to her.

Savannah was momentarily caught off guard by his response, her confusion evident. After a brief moment, she hesitantly retreated a step. "How… how can I help Cherry?"

Steve considered for a moment. "I've heard that Damien and Cherry have a pair of five-year-old twins."

"How about shopping and picking out some gifts for the kids?"

Savannah reluctantly agreed to Steve's suggestion; her lips pressed into a tight line as she complied.

Once Steve had left, Savannah dismissed the idea of applying makeup.

Instead, she opted for a casual ponytail and grabbed a duffle bag before departing from the house.

Savannah found herself less inclined to pick out presents for Cherise's twins; her foremost concern was for their mother.

The notion of a young girl enduring confinement in such a place weighed heavily on her mind. How frightened must she be?

The thought of being falsely accused and detained was undeniably distressing.

Lost in contemplation, Savannah roamed the streets of Calais with a heavy heart, her thoughts consumed by these troubling reflections.

"Hello there, miss," a voice interrupted as she strolled along.

After what seemed like an indefinite period of wandering, a sleek black Maserati glided to a stop beside her.

The window smoothly slid down, revealing the handsome face of a man.

"Where are you going? Need a ride?"

Upon hearing the stranger's invitation, Savannah pivoted toward the sound.

Her eyes widened as she beheld his image. He was so strikingly handsome that she couldn't help but gape in awe.

He possessed a beauty that rivaled other women! she marveled to herself.

"Uh… miss?"

The man's voice broke her reverie.

Savannah coughed awkwardly and mustered a smile for the stranger. "No, thank you. I'll just continue exploring on my own."

"But I'd be honored to offer a ride to a beautiful lady like yourself," the man smoothly interjected, gracing Savannah with an elegant smile that carried a touch of warmth. "It's not every day I find myself initiating a chat with such a lovely lady on the roadside. I hope you'll be kind enough to spare me any embarrassment."

Savannah couldn't suppress a chuckle at his slightly flustered and endearing demeanor.

She regarded his face thoughtfully. "With looks like that, don't women usually take the first step to talk to you?"

The man's eyebrows knitted in response as he moved his gaze upward as if contemplating a response. After a short pause, he dipped his head thoughtfully. "To a certain degree, yes."

"So, will you indulge me?"

"Or I might start doubting my own physical looks," he added with a hint of humor.

Savannah offered him a warm smile. "You don't need to worry on that front; you're quite handsome."

"The only issue is that recently, I've found myself drawn to people who look more… normal, I suppose," she added, a hint of shyness creeping into her expression.

Glancing up at him with a worried expression, she muttered awkwardly, "I apologize," before she held the duffel bag closer to her and swiftly made her departure.

Seated within the confines of the Maserati, the man watched Savannah's departure with narrowed eyes, a chilling smile curling his lips.

At that moment, a black Cayenne glided to a stop behind his vehicle.

A figure clad in a sleek black suit emerged from the Cayenne and approached him with deliberate steps. "I expect it's due time for a serious discussion, Mr.

Gray."The stranger's head spun around immediately, his captivating gaze fixing upon the newcomer. Recognition flashed in his eyes, and they dangerously narrowed. "Damien?"

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1078-Deceptive Propositions "Mr. Gray has observed me countless times via the surveillance monitor, and yet you still need a reminder of who I am?" Damien retorted icily.

A cold smile played on Damien's lips as he regarded the man. "Shall I give an applause for Mr. Gray's acting prowess?"

The man smiled in return, but his gaze remained sharp as he locked eyes with Damien. "My surprise isn't an act, I assure you. It's genuinely astonishing how swiftly you managed to track me down."

"Blame your impatience," Damien replied, his tone cool and calculated.

With a cold stare, Damien pressed on. "You planted numerous hidden cameras and bugged the entire area with concealed microphones, yet you failed to intercept Steve and my conversations, and you couldn't trace Steve's movements that day. Then, you redirected your attention to Savannah, scheming to glean information about Steve's whereabouts…"

The man's gaze narrowed at Damien. "So, you foresaw my impatience and planned it all in advance, waiting for the mouse to eat the cheese in the trap?"

"You could say that," Damien replied calmly.

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  1078/1090  The man's curiosity piqued. "How did you know I would take the bait?"

"Because patience isn't your strong suit," Damien quipped.

Damien regarded him with a stoic expression. "If you hadn't acted hastily, you wouldn't have promptly disposed of Sebastian right after acquiring the video of Cherise confronting him with a scalpel yesterday, which led to Cherise's getting detained by the authorities."

"That impatience is your undoing."

The man scrutinized Damien for a moment before a smile graced his lips. "I, Jude Gray, have always considered myself smart and have never once admitted my losses. However, this round, I must concede victory to you."

Stepping out of the car, he gestured toward a café nearby. "What do you say about continuing our discussion there?"

The café, with its French windows, was bathed in a cascade of sunlight, illuminating the space with a warm, golden glow. Damien sat in a booth, his posture exuding an air of composure as he savored the rich aroma of his black coffee. With each sip, he seemed to sink deeper into his thoughts, contemplating the events that had led him to this moment.

Across from him, the man sat; his presence was a stark contrast to the tranquility of the café. There was a tension in the air, palpable even amidst the soft murmur of conversation. Damien's gaze, cold and unwavering, met the man's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the simmering animosity between them.

"I simply seized some business opportunities from Mr. Gray last year,"

Damien spoke, his voice low yet carrying an unmistakable edge. "I must say, I didn't expect to bear the brunt of your grudges."

"I presumed the Gray family could weather setbacks since they've been in the business for so long, but it seems I was wrong."

His words hung in the air, punctuated by the clink of porcelain against the tabletop.

Jude's hand rose with elegant grace, a gesture that sliced through the charged atmosphere like a swift breeze through autumn leaves. "You're mistaken on one crucial point," he interjected smoothly, his voice carrying a refined tone that hinted at a hidden depth of intellect and conviction.

With a gaze as sharp as a fox's, he sent a penetrating stare back at Damien, a silent challenge etched upon his features.

"The things I've done recently," Jude continued, his tone measured yet determined, "have no relation to the Grays."

A faint smile graced Jude's lips, a subtle curve that hinted at the hidden intentions he bore. With arms crossed and gaze unwavering, he observed Damien with a keen eye. "You see, Gwenn and I are well acquainted."

A subtle shift in the air accompanied Jude's next words. "Her trip this time to Calais," he began, his voice steady and unwavering, "was possible because I offered her my private jet."

"I also own the helicopter you saw on the hotel rooftop," Jude went on, his tone casual yet portraying a hint of pride in his capabilities.

With a casual grace, Jude lifted the coffee cup before him, taking a sip as though the weight of their conversation was of little consequence. "Since we're close friends," he remarked, his gaze meeting Damien's with cool confidence, "it's perfectly normal to lend a hand when she needs it."

A subtle tension crackled in the air as Damien's eyes twitched, a telltale sign of the turmoil roiling beneath his composed exterior. "Are you trying to frighten me?" he asked, his voice portraying a hint of defiance despite his attempt at maintaining a calm demeanor.

Jude's response was as direct as it was unapologetic. "Yes," he stated matter-of-factly, his words hanging in the air like a challenge waiting to be met.

"I know what you're capable of. It's only a matter of time before you liberate Cherise from suspicion," Jude continued.

"But," he added, "you would do well to understand that with my resources, getting Gwenn out is a simple matter for me."

Setting down the coffee cup with deliberate precision, Jude fixed his gaze upon Damien. "So, to make matters easy for both of us, I present a proposition."

The weight of his words hung in the air. Damien listened, his expression unreadable as he awaited Jude's proposition.

"You and your colleague withdraw the accusations against Gwenn, and in return, I shall provide evidence proving Cherise's innocence, a win-win scenario for all concerned parties."

He cast a confident gaze at Damien, a smirk subtly lifting the corners of his lips. "You must comprehend that Gwenn's transgression amounts to nothing more than incitement to commit crimes."

"Whereas your Cherise stands accused of murder."

"If you refuse, it's Cherise who will endure the most hardship within the confines of the detention center."

Damien's eyebrows knitted together, his expression turning grim as he weighed Jude's proposal. Though he hadn't crossed paths with this man before, Jude's infamy had earned him a reputation.The mere mention of his name sent shivers down the spines of those who dared to speak of him in hushed tones. Tales of his exploits whispered in darkened alleys and dimly lit corners painted a picture of a man whose very presence commanded respect and fear.

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1079-Unwelcome Ultimatum Damien narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze cold as winter's frost as he addressed the man before him. "Mr. Gray, I remember our previous business encounter, which was indeed unpleasant, but that was long ago."

"I fail to comprehend why Mr. Gray insists on interfering with the Lenoir affairs over a matter from the past."

Jude responded with a serene smile, a façade of friendliness masking the tension brewing beneath the surface. To any casual onlookers, it appeared to be nothing more than an amicable exchange between two businessmen. Yet, unbeknownst to them, the real intensity of their interaction simmered underneath the pleasantries.

He lifted the coffee cup to his lips, taking a measured sip. "Do you truly believe that I, someone who comes from prestige and esteem, would be swayed by a minor mishap from years before?"

"I've never lost sleep over losses in the tens of millions," Jude continued, his tone unwavering and devoid of emotion.

Damien's retort came swift and sharp, a reflection of the tension that crackled between them. "If Mr. Gray claims that you don't care about such small Home Categories  Search…

  1079/1090  trifles," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism, "why then would you intervene with the situation that concerns Gwenn and my wife?"

"Would you believe me if I confessed I have romantic feelings toward Gwenn?"

The clink of the porcelain cup reverberated loudly in Damien's ears as it met the surface of the table. A wry smile played across Jude's face. "Damien, it's not as though I haven't afforded you the opportunity to make a choice."

"Are you genuinely prepared to allow your wife to suffer within the confines of the detention center?" Jude posed the question, his tone insistent.

"Ah, that's right; before I forget," he continued in a nonchalant tone, pressing the matter further.

With a casual shrug, Jude added, "One of my people has alerted me that Beckham Tanner is en route to the same island that Raymond Lenoir hid himself in."

"Unfortunately, he isn't as swift as I am."

"Even before he left, I had already dispatched individuals to the island…"

Jude's almond-shaped eyes fixed faintly on Damien. "Time is slipping away."

"Do you wish to persist in fruitless discussions with the authorities here for the sake of your wife, or do you intend to save your father-in-law by traveling across the Mediterranean Sea?"

Damien's icy eyes narrowed with intensity as his hands clenched tightly around the coffee cup, "What do you want exactly?" he demanded.

"That," Jude replied cryptically, "is something that will be revealed in due time."

Jude's gaze shifted elegantly to his phone, where he checked the time with a casual grace. "I shall count to ten," he remarked, his voice carrying a weighty consequence, "if by then, you're still indecisive, I can only surmise that you don't consent to the proposal…"

Damien felt the tension coil within his stomach.

In all of Damien's experiences until now, he found himself in unfamiliar territory, a place where his usual tactics and strategies seemed futile against the enigmatic force that was Jude Gray.

Jude Gray, a figure who typically operated from the shadows, serving as Gwenn's secret strategist and supporter, had now emerged into the open, laying bare the cards he held.

Jude harbored no fear in divulging the intricacies of his meticulously crafted plans.

For there were no vulnerabilities among them.

"One, two, three…"

Jude glanced up, a smile playing upon his lips as he addressed Damien. "It seems Mr. Lenoir is reluctant to release Gwenn."

"I get it," Jude remarked, his tone measured. "Just as daughters-in-law may often clash with their mothers-in-law, and many sons-in-law might harbor disdain toward their fathers-in-law."

"I've provided Mr. Lenoir with a legitimate pretext to disregard Beckham's fate, and I've assisted him in eliminating a figure he found hard to manage."

"It's only fair to say that Mr. Lenoir would be content with such convenient terms."

With a well-practiced façade of surprise, Jude observed the tense lines on Damien's face, his eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement. "Why, Mr. Lenoir,"

he remarked, his voice dripping with faux concern, "you should be happy!

That sad face does not suit you."

The corners of Damien's lips twitched, a fleeting flicker of irritation betraying his attempts at maintaining composure. "Hmm, is the reason for your sadness because I haven't concluded my count?" Jude mused, the smirk playing at the edges of his lips growing more pronounced.

With deliberate nonchalance, Jude stretched languidly, his movements fluid and effortless. "Well, if that's the case, let us proceed," he declared, his voice carrying a hint of boredom as he resumed his count.

"Four, five…" he intoned, each syllable resonating with a sense of inevitability as the seconds ticked by.

"I consent," Damien gritted out through clenched teeth, the words heavy with resignation as he closed his eyes.

Perhaps it was the weariness that had clouded his judgment, the fatigue of endless battles dulling his one-sharp instincts. Or perhaps it was the realization that even the strongest had moments of weakness. Regardless, it was too late.

Deep in thought after ruminating over his circumstances, he came to a stark realization: he had overlooked a crucial detail.

Why had he failed to consider that Gwenn's ally might also be present within their midst?

Now, confronted with Jude's ultimatum, he found himself with no better options.

To Cherise, there was no one more significant than Beckham. He was her biological father, after all, reunited after much pain.

There was no way he could simply stand by as Beckham went all by himself to that hostile island that had sentries all pointing a target at his back.

Despite his repeated instructions for Beckham to await reinforcements…

Marrying the Man in the Dark Chapter 1080-Unexpected Rescuer Beckham, evidently impatient, hastily left. After a brief parting, he set off towards the island without a moment's hesitation.

"Sorry, did I hear that right?" Jude's voice dripped with feigned surprise as he looked at Damien, a glimmer of satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Mr. Lenoir has consented to my proposition?"

"Oh dear," he continued, his tone laced with mock incredulity, "Mr. and Mrs.

Lenoir are meant to harbor an intense disdain for Gwenn, correct? Why on earth would they consent to my seemingly unreasonable demand?"

Damien clenched his jaw, the tightness betraying his simmering anger as he regarded Jude. "I concede that this time, I was ill-prepared, and you exploited that opportunity, Mr. Gray."

"But mark my words, if Gwenn comes within my grasp in the future, trust that your luck won't hold out."

With that, Damien pivoted on his heel and strode away from the café.

Jude reclined in his chair, the self-satisfied smirk still playing on his lips as he reached for his phone and dialed a number. His voice, deliberately loud Home Categories  Search…

  1080/1090  enough for Damien to hear, carried across the space between them with a calculated sense of triumph.

"Guess what?" he began, his tone dripping with satisfaction, "I'm the victor."

"Mhm, that very same fearsome Damien you spoke of, I've outwitted him, and he was compelled to consent to my demand."

A chuckle escaped Jude's lips at the incredulous response on the other end of the line. "What's that? You're skeptical?" he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"I've recorded our entire conversation earlier! The video will be in your inbox soon enough!"

With a resounding bang, Damien forcefully shut the café door, the force of his frustration reverberating through the air like a thunderclap.

On the other side of the glass window, Jude watched with hawk-like intensity as Damien departed from view. His self-satisfied smirk deepened, a silent acknowledgment of his victory in their intricate game of manipulation and deceit.

"Mom, I'm starting to doubt whether he can maintain his composure. You're certain that he's the one you've been seeking?"

------ "Gwenn, it's time to go!"

The prison warden's voice cut through the stillness of the Calais jail, echoing off the cold stone walls with an urgency that demanded attention.

Startled from her thoughts, Gwenn glanced up, her expression a mix of confusion and apprehension as she registered the warden's words. "Are they already scheduling my trial?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

She was in a disheveled state from spending days in prison. People who knew her would find it hard to recognize her at that moment.

The warden shook her head, her expression inscrutable behind the mask of authority. "No," she replied simply.

"There's someone here to fetch you. Quickly now, get up! Come with me!"

The urgency in the warden's voice snapped Gwenn to attention, her eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpected turn of events. "Someone has come to bring me out!?" she exclaimed, the words tumbling from her lips in a rush of disbelief and hope.

How…no that's impossible.

Damien would never permit her release.

There were no other allies she could seek help in Calais…

"Tell me, who are they?" she asked anxiously as she rose to her feet.

"Come along, and you'll soon discover!"

The warden demanded with growing impatience.

Feeling a surge of anxiety, Gwenn's footsteps trailed after the warden.

The warden swiftly handled her release, and in just five minutes, she found herself standing outside the imposing walls of the jail, her disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the clean city streets that surrounded her.

In the chaos of her release, she hadn't caught a glimpse of the person responsible for her sudden freedom. The mystery hung heavy in the air, a question mark lingering in the back of her mind as she stood alone on the sidewalk, uncertainty gnawing at her insides.

Suddenly, a sleek black Maserati pulled up beside her, its engine purring with quiet power as the door swung open. Gwenn's gaze met the eyes of the man inside, his almond-shaped eyes and impeccably arched eyebrows betraying a sense of authority that left her momentarily speechless.

"Get in," he said, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of urgency.

Gwenn stood rooted to her spot, the weight of her apprehension pressing down upon her like a leaden weight. But then, his words cut through her thoughts like a knife.

"If you'd rather not face Cherise's and Damien's wrath," he continued, his tone leaving no room for argument, "then step in."

Gwenn bit down her lips and steeled herself for whatever lay ahead. She knew she had no choice but to comply for the time being.

The interior of the car was permeated with the potent aroma of men's cologne; its allure mingled with an icy chill that bordered on suffocating.

Gwenn's eyebrows knitted together, still feeling a sense of unease, but her curiosity got the better hold of her. "Who are you?" she asked.

"You need not concern yourself with my identity; only know that I'm here to help," the man responded.

With that, he offered a reassuring smile. "I'll instruct the driver to send you straight to the airport. A private jet will be ready for your departure."

"Where will I be heading to after that?" Gwenn's voice held a mixture of anticipation and apprehension as she settled into the plush seat of the car.

"You'll be dropped at the city where Evan, your fiancé, resides," the stranger responded, his tone matter-of-fact as he met her gaze in the rearview mirror.

A faint smirk played at the corners of the man's lips as he continued, his words laced with a hint of amusement. "However, you should prep yourself up. He's presently vacationing with his girlfriend, so his reception may not be as welcoming as you anticipate."

Gwenn raised an eye, devoid of any visible signs of betrayal or embarrassment upon learning about her fiance's infidelity. Instead, she regarded the man's face that was cast back through the rearview mirror with a cool detachment, her curiosity piqued by his seemingly intimate knowledge of her life.

"You seem to know an awful lot about me," she remarked, her voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling within her, "who exactly are you?"