Maisie's heart pounded as she pushed against Daniel's muscular chest, doing her best to create distance. However, the feeble attempt seemed more like a tease.
Daniel threw himself onto her and captured her flushed earlobe with a kiss, feeling her tiny frame shake in his embrace.
"Maisie…" he whispered huskily into her ear, "Can I?"
She shut her eyes, too nervous to respond verbally. He smirked, interpreting her reaction as silent consent.
Yet, just as he was about to proceed, his phone rudely interrupted with an extra blaring ringtone that echoed through the room, incessantly ringing.
Maisie opened her eyes, her cheeks still flushed. "Pick it up," she said.
With a sigh, Daniel reluctantly distanced himself from her.
It was his assistant calling, and Daniel answered with irritation. "What is it?!"
The assistant hesitated. "Mr. Quimby, um…"
"Spit it out!"
"It's about Owen." The assistant nervously continued. "You asked me to follow him, and I…"
"Wait." Daniel lowered his voice, moving to the balcony to shield Maisie from the conversation. "Okay, go ahead."
"Well, we've been tailing him for a few days and discovered that he does nothing apart from drinking and gambling. His life seems devoid of purpose, and he resorts to asking for money at home whenever he loses in gambling…"
Daniel's face darkened. The revelation didn't surprise him—Owen had exhibited such behavior in the past. Drinking, gambling, and even mistreating his sister. Yet, Maisie had stood up for him when he was ill, selling her body to cover his medical bills.
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