I Ctrl+Alt+Deleted My Ex and Ctrl+C'd His Uncle novel Chapter 67

**Through Silent Meadows We Trace Stories Left Behind**

**Chapter 67**

As Marcus strolled past, the fabric of his trousers brushed against the hem of Sophie’s skirt, an almost ghostly touch that sent a shiver through her. Her fingers curled instinctively, betraying the flutter of nerves that had taken residence in her stomach.

“Is this seat taken, Miss Chandler?” His voice, smooth and composed, cut through the air with an ease that made Sophie’s heart race.

“No, it’s not,” she replied softly, her gaze dropping to the floor as she fought to mask the heat creeping up her cheeks.

What was wrong with her? Marcus had done nothing out of the ordinary, yet here she was, a bundle of nerves.

Sophie mentally chastised herself, wanting to scream in frustration.

Marcus settled into the chair beside her, and with him came a wave of warmth and a scent that felt like home, wrapping around Sophie like a comforting blanket.

She inhaled deeply, trying to steady the erratic rhythm of her heart.

The people around them noticed the sudden shift in dynamics, their eyes flickering with curiosity. After a brief moment of surprise, they quickly rationalized the situation.

Of course, Sophie was Marcus’s niece-in-law. It made perfect sense for him to sit there, didn’t it?

Celine, sitting nearby, seemed to be pondering the same thing—and perhaps much more.

Marcus must have been cautious, worried that others would catch on to the subtle spark of interest he had in Sophie, which explained why he had chosen to maintain a comfortable distance.

Ah, classic “reverse psychology,” Celine thought, smirking to herself. She was all too familiar with that game!

“Mr. Morgan, you arrived just in time. I was just having a friendly wager with Miss Chandler,” Celine chimed, leaning forward and addressing Marcus directly, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“Unfortunately, Miss Chandler seems to be a bit naive about the world. She mistook imitation for the real deal. She’s about to become our niece-in-law, yet she hasn’t quite learned how to navigate these waters. Perhaps Mr. Morgan could enlighten her, or else she might embarrass the Morgan family,” Celine continued, her tone dripping with condescension.

Marcus, with his sharp knuckles casually resting against his nose, replied coolly, “What is that? It stinks.”

Celine’s expression froze, the realization of his words dawning on her, and she felt the heat of embarrassment flood her cheeks.

Marcus showed no mercy, his gaze unwavering as he draped his jacket over Sophie’s legs, the fabric still infused with his warmth.

Sophie instinctively pulled her legs back, discomfort washing over her. “Mr. Morgan, I’m not cold,” she protested, her voice tinged with confusion.

Despite the air conditioning humming around them, she felt perfectly comfortable in her long skirt. There was no need for his jacket, really.

Marvin, observing from a distance, couldn’t help but admire how the sheer fabric of Sophie’s dress hugged her long, slender legs, revealing just enough to captivate the eye.

She resembled a blue-eyed enchantress, delicate and ethereal, yet completely unaware of the allure she exuded.

Reflecting on how she had sat there for what felt like an eternity, a wave of frustration surged within him.

“Cover up,” Marcus commanded, his tone firm and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

Sophie pressed her lips together, knowing she had no choice but to comply with his request, choosing silence over confrontation.

“What bet did you make?” Marcus’s voice grew heavier, curiosity lacing his words.

“I bet on which piece is Liora’s work,” she replied, her seriousness evident as she locked eyes with him.

Marcus turned his gaze toward her, intrigued. “Which one did you bet on?”

“Number six is Liora’s true work,” she stated confidently, her conviction unwavering. “Number eight is just a half-finished piece.”

“If piece number eight was indeed submitted by the Morgan Group, Mr. Morgan could—”

Before she could finish her thought, Liam approached them, his expression tense and urgent.

“Sophie, come with me for a moment. I need to speak with you,” Liam said, his voice tight with intensity.

Sophie frowned, sensing the gravity of the situation. “Liam, you…”

“Sophie, I know what you’re about to ask. Just come with me, and I promise I’ll give you an answer.”

The issue surrounding Liora was too precarious to reveal to Marcus. If it came to light, Liam’s aspirations of becoming the general manager would be jeopardized, not to mention his current position.

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