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Chapter 1428 The Coldest Seat He Had Ever Sat On
Beryl listened to his tone, feeling somewhat aggrieved. She glanced around cautiously and then gently took his
hand, saying, "Don't be upset. This is a special time..."
After speaking, she quickly let go, afraid of being seen by others.
Marcellus also knew that it was a special time. Although he understood, it couldn't ease his dissatisfaction. He
looked down at his empty palm and felt a bit dazed.
"You held my hand just now?"
Beryl sighed helplessly and nodded firmly. "Yes."
"Oh." He rubbed his hands together and tilted his head. "I didn't even feel it. I thought it was an illusion."
Beryl knew he was teasing himself. She glanced at the nearby small garden and the brightly lit restaurant across
the street, then her dark eyes swirled with thoughts, and she came up with an idea.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Marcellus, come with me." She turned around and walked toward the garden.
Marcellus glanced at the restaurant and asked, "Aren't you going to eat?"
"I am," Beryl continued, gesturing towards him, "I'll go over there to eat."
Marcellus didn't know what she was up to, but seeing her behaving like a little thief, he felt displeased, yet visually
he found it quite cute.
No wonder people say you should find a cute girlfriend. Marcellus used to not understand it, as he valued sexiness
more than cuteness. But now he understood.
In the past, sexy women would make men want to sleep with them, but after looking a few more times, it would be
nothing special. But cute women are different; they make men want to keep looking at them as if they are under a
spell.
Marcellus followed her, and they eventually stopped at a corner of the small garden, where an almost abandoned
gray stone table and bench stood.
The table had patterns on it, resembling a chessboard.
He looked at her calmly as she took out a tissue from her pocket and spread it on the table. "Sit down."
Marcellus's eyelid twitched. "You want to eat here?"
"Yeah." Compared to his reaction, Beryl seemed quite at ease. She sat down directly and opened the black thermal
container. "Have you eaten? Do you want some?"
Marcellus didn't have much appetite, but when he heard her offer, he still nodded politely. "Sure, I'll have some."
His over-six-foot-tall frame sat pitifully on the stone bench. Marcellus swore this was the coldest seat he had ever
sat on in his over thirty years of life.
Would he get diarrhea after eating this meal with her?
The aroma of the food wafted out as the thermal container was opened. Despite its unassuming appearance, the
four-layered meal was an exquisite arrangement: the first layer had Shrimp Salad, the second was braised pork,
the third was Grilled Salmon, and the last was onion soup.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmAlthough it was packed in a thermal container without fancy presentation, the dishes still made one's mouth water.
There was no need to ask; Marcellus knew the food was prepared by a top chef from the Red Cauldron.
But... Only one set of utensils in her hands caught her eye.
She blinked, feeling a bit embarrassed. "There are no extra utensils, huh? Should I go buy another set? You can use
this one."
"It's too troublesome." Marcellus lazily rested his hands on the table, leaning forward. "How about you feed me?
After all, I won't eat much."
Beryl was speechless.
Once again, Beryl was amazed by his cheekiness. How could a grown man in his thirties speak such flirtatious words
with such a calm expression?
He wasn't shy about it?
Presumably not. After all, wherever Marcellus went, he was dominant, and a mere flirtatious remark meant nothing
to him.