The seat adjacent to Cecilia became avable as the person stood up to make room, and Mark took the opportunity to sit beside her. With eleven people squeezing into ten seats, the proximity was undeniable.


    Mark was pressed against Cecilia, acutely aware of the softness of her waist, though his expression revealed nothing of his internal state.


    Involved in the evening’s mingling, he held a cigarette between his slender, pale fingers, not for smoking but perhaps as a social prop.


    His handsome featuresplemented his formidable background.


    Here, no one would dare challenge him or pressure him into smoking or drinking.


    The room buzzed with energy.This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    Cecilia, mostly quiet, found herself the focus when a tipsy gentleman offered her a ss of wine, slurring, “A toast from Miss Fowler shall guarantee funding for the y.”


    Her eyes lifted.


    Simon, caught in the tension between appeasing wealthy patrons and respecting the Fowler name, was apprehensive.


    The prospect of a Fowler daughter entertaining the investor was unimaginable.


    Previously, Cecilia would have declined without hesitation, but Simon’s faith and validation meant something to her, and he used to be such a big help to her career… If her epting the wine could secure the investment, pride had no ce.


    Under the expectant eyes of the crowd, Cecilia rose, ss in hand.


    She offered a poised smile.


    “Mr. Medina, I trust you’ll honor your word.”


    As she prepared to sip, a slender hand enveloped hers, steadying the ss.


    It was Mark.


    A collective gasp filled the space.


    They were taken aback. Mark’s audacity to casually touch ady, and not just any, but a Fowler, was startling.


    Yet Nothing happened next. There was no p, no rebuke from Cecilia.


    Instead, a silent, intense exchange held between them.


    The onlookers grasped at once that this was no ordinary interaction.


    Mark’s gaze locked with Cecilia’s, where an emotional storm seemed to brew.


    In a hushed tone, he asserted, “I’ll drink it for you.”


    But as he motioned to take the ss, Cecilia’s reflexes kicked in.