Chapter 11

Even after so many years, Marcus still looked the same as ever. He leaned against the car door, sizing Cynthia up and down. After he had enough of admiring her miserable state, his lips curved up in that familiar, mocking grin that carried a trace of malice. He clicked his tongue. "Cynthia Stutton. We haven't met in two years, and you've landed in such a miserable state. How did the great Ms. Stutton, who never took a slight lying down, turn into such a meek, submissive woman?" His words were harsh, but his gaze lingered on her plastered leg for an instant. Cynthia didn't immediately retort as she would in the past. She just smiled faintly and said, "Thank you, Marcus." Thank you for offering aid when she was at her most helpless. Thank you for siding with her when everyone else was scrambling to squeeze her dry. Her gratitude stunned Marcus momentarily, after which he immediately rubbed his arms exaggeratedly as if he'd been burned. "Stop, Cynthia. I'd rather you just went all