Mrs. Marsh's Revealed Identities

Chapter 1492

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Chapter 1492: The Gentle Touch

Again, someone voiced their worries, "The snow is getting heavier, and the road conditions are getting worse."

"Everyone, please rest assured, Mr. Norwell is absolutely safe," Kevin reassured everyone, "As for what he's doing, | really don't

know. He left this morning and said he'd be back by noon."

Someone expressed their confusion, "Mr. Norwell is always punctual, so we're worried that something may have happened to him."

"Yes, I'm quite worried too," someone else said, their heart hanging in the balance much like an old father's, "Mainly because of the

poor road conditions."

"There have already been more than a dozen traffic accidents reported today..."

"Sigh, as long as he comes back safely, waiting a bit is no big deal."

"Kevin, why don't you give him another call just to check?" Someone still wasn't reassured.

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Kevin's main concern wasn't Mr. Norwell's safety. After all, Mr. Norwell exuded a sense of security and was an adult capable of

taking care of himself. Kevin was most worried about the meeting being postponed further. Mr. Norwell had a meeting with Camille

at three in the afternoon which would have to be delayed. As one of the top ten female entrepreneurs in the world, Camille was

decisive and strict with her schedule, leaving almost no room for changes.

So, Kevin called Mr. Norwell again, risking being scolded.

This tthere was no rejection. Tristan was in the small Western-styled building, in Monica's bedroom. He had just helped her tidy

up all her dolls and, perhaps because he was in a good mood, he answered the call, "I'll start a video conference for you guys right

away."

"My boss, you've got a meeting with Camille at three. You didn't forget, did you?" Kevin hurriedly asked, fearing he would hang up.

"I didn't forget. | received her reminder text. There's still time."

Kevin sighed in relief. If Mr. Norwell didn't cand he had to deal with Camille alone, he would probably be chewed up and spit

out.

Seeing him hang up the phone, the first thing Monica said was, "Are you going to have a video conference on your way back?

That's very dangerous! Don't joke with your own life!"

From her tone and expression, Tristan could feel her worry and care, "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

After he spoke, he looked at the completely empty storage box and instructed, "Don't throw it away. We'll fill it up with more

another day."

Yes, all the dolls fit into one storage box perfectly, leaving an extra box.

Monica stared at him, seeing a touch of gentleness in his deep eyes. She also smiled and nodded, "Okay."

She cover, took off the coat on her shoulders, and helped him put it on as he had done for her in the snow.

The gentle touch of the girl's fingers lingered on his neck, and she said to him, "Be careful on the road."

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Tristan nodded, "I'll go first then, you don't need to seeout."

She stood still, watching his back disappear at the doorway. As Tristan drove away, Monica stood by the window watching.

She felt happy and a little reluctant, a strange feeling in her heart.

It was already past two o'clock. Tristan started a video conference on his way back to the company. His thoughts were crystal clear,

and he solved each serious problem one by one with precision. Every remedial solution he proposed seemed to enlighten the

executives.

Actually, Tristan had analyzed it until three o'clock in the morning the day before.

No one's success comes easily. It's just that people don't see the effort put in when it's being made.

At three in the afternoon, in a luxurious guest room at Clarke Corp.

As the door was pushed open, a strong scent of jasmine hit the senses. A French woman, wearing a strapless dress in the dead of

winter, tossed the fur she was wearing to an assistant and walked inside with a twist of her waist, her high heels clicking on the

floor.

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Mrs. Marsh's Revealed Identities

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