Stuart's face was a storm cloud.
Sitting there, he seemed like a dark lord presiding over a shadowy abyss, an air of menace wafting from him.
"Where did you go dressed like that?" Stuart's voice was ice cold.
Morwenna had rushed out too quickly, not even changing out of her bathrobe, just throwing on a coat before heading out.
"I went to see a friend," Morwenna said casually.
She was an honest soul, loath to lie, but she wasn't keen on sharing with Stuart about her tutoring job.
She feared that if anything went awry, Stuart would react as he had with the Whites, taking actions he shouldn’t.
Hearing Morwenna's reply seemed to make Stuart's aura even more foreboding.
Where did Morwenna go dressed like that? And who did she meet?
Just out of the shower, clad in a bathrobe—such intimacy was meant for the closest of companions.
Stuart had never minded before; Morwenna's mere presence was enough.
But now, the thought of her in her bathrobe, meeting others, set off a tempest inside him.
He rose from the bench, his presence heavy with authority, and advanced towards Morwenna step by step.
As Stuart neared, Morwenna took a couple of steps back.
Stuart's gaze darkened.
Was she hesitant to get closer? Or did she feel guilty?
His mood darkening, he couldn't contain his wrath and grabbed Morwenna's wrist. "Who did you meet? A man or a woman?"
It never occurred to Stuart that he was acting like a jealous lover.
Morwenna frowned, "You're hurting me."
Stuart's body reacted faster than his mind, releasing her wrist without thinking.
In the past, his anger might have led him to choke someone without relenting, let alone merely causing pain to a wrist.
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