Dangerous Love: You Are My One and Only Bride novel Chapter 471

Mark Tremont never did turn toward her direction. He just melted into the gathering crowd.

A morose smile shadowed her pale lips. She wanted to not be seen, did she not? It was for the best, she told herself. That embrace in the club? Forget it. It was for the best.

At the highest floor of the block, flanked by his company’s higher-ups, Mark visited every department in the building in turns. Behind those glasses, dour eyes coated in a thin film of frost scaled his nervous employees while they did their best to ensure no slips came to pass.

Narrowly after ordering two cups of coffee through Messenger, Nick’s periphery vision caught Mark approaching his direction. He quickly placed his phone down and went back to work. His superior had already informed him earlier that the boss was coming today. If Mark found him fiddling with his phone, Nick would lose his job right there and then.

His fortune, however, took a dip. When Mark was passing by Nick’s aisle, the steely man suddenly stopped and grouched, “This walkway is too narrow.”

The superior beside him was a quick-thinking slick who instantly supplied, “Oh, yes, very true, sir. I’ll have someone adjust it as soon as possible.”

Right then and there, Nick’s phone suddenly came alive with Arianne’s message: ‘Alright. I’m on it.’

The ping sound of his notification attracted Mark’s attention; his gaze was immediately met with the name of the sender.

Mark’s eyes turned cloudy, though he continued to hurry toward the office in front of him without any other changes in his expression. The superior tailing him quickly shot Nick daggers, hissing in a low voice, “Don’t you dare do that again! You better keep that thing away from your desk next time!”

Nick was sitting on pins and needles. It was only a message; it was too trivial to put him in trouble, right?

Once he stepped into the office, Mark suddenly spoke, “I want that guy in here now.”

The superior quickly hummed a response and sent a message in the department’s group, accentuating his point by directly mentioning Nick in name.

A ballooning sense of foreboding instantly hit Nick the instant he received the notification. Hurriedly, he rose to his feet and headed to the office.

“Mr. Tremont?” Nick asked.

Mark gestured to the superior to go toward the door, and the slick exited with a buttery smile while secretly having a cold sweat.

Nick looked on gingerly while Mark, standing behind a large desk, turned his back against the former. “Is there something I can help with, Mr. Tremont?” he asked again.

Mark loomed slightly over the desk, holding a document in his hand while his other hand propped against the table’s surface. His expression was blank. “Is Arianne the owner of the café across this street?”

Nick let out the breath he was holding. “Oh, so you’ve heard of the café as well, sir? Her desserts are insanely delicious, and she made all of them herself! My colleagues and I are her daily patrons! Just a while ago, Mr. West bought all of us a treat from the café, too. Would you like to try it, Mr. Tremont? I can order one for you now!”

Mark, however, furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “How are you talking to her directly through Messenger?”

With two heavy steps, Mark marched to Nick’s face. Every word that subsequently fell out of his mouth was a cutting stab reaching deep into the other’s bones, “I. Am. Her. Husband.”

Nick froze.

He could not, for the life of him, confound Arianne Wynn — the owner of a sweet little café — with someone of the likes of Mark Tremont. Now that he realized his fatal mistake, all that was left for him to do was to back away as much as possible, “I’m very, very sorry, sir! I didn't know! I had no idea that she is your wife. I will amend this at once.”

Thankfully, Mark’s veiled threat was the most he had decided to do to Nick. With a wave, he dismissed the shaken man from his office.

In truth, had Nick’s progress with Arianne reached the point where the two were actively hanging out or dating, Mark would not have left the man unscathed.

Outside of the office, Nick heaved out a long sigh. His long-awaiting superior tugged him aside and questioned him hurriedly, “What happened? What did Mr. Tremont say?”

Nick was almost too chagrined to speak. “I… I didn’t know that Arianne Wynn, the owner of the café opposite us, is Mr. Tremont’s wife. I… I wanted to date her, and he… um, he found out about it —”

“What the hell have you done, you moron!” his superior screeched, exasperated. “So, what did Mr. Tremont decide to do with you?”

Nick shook his head, lost. “I don’t know, sir,” he muttered. “Maybe he will fire me. He didn’t say anything to my face, but maybe he decided to inform you instead…”