Late at night, someone knocked on the door to Marion's hotel room.
He opened it to see a pale-faced, teary-eyed Lexie standing outside.
He frowned, instinctively trying to shut the door. But Lexie quickly blocked it with her hand, not caring if it got slammed.
"Mr. Houston, I need to talk to you," she said urgently.
"We have nothing to talk about," Marion replied coldly.
He went on to close the door, but Lexie blurted, "I truly admire you. Remember when you saved me before?"
Marion narrowed his eyes, not recalling ever saving her.
"I've killed a lot of people and saved a lot more. Why would I remember you?" he said indifferently.
"It's okay if you don't remember me, but I remember you," Lexie insisted. "If it weren't for you, I would have died a long time ago. My father owed a lot of money, and you let me go. I'm grateful to you. Everything I said tonight in front of Mrs. Houston was from the heart. I really like you. I've worked hard to stand before you today. I don't want you to hate me."
She looked gravely pitiful, but such a performance could not fool Marion, an expert at reading people.
As he remained silent, Lexie lowered her voice. "I don't want to come between you and Mrs. Houston, but I can't stand by and watch her humiliate you in front of everyone. So..."
"Are you done?" Marion interrupted, his voice even colder.
"Anything?" Marion chuckled.
"Yes, anything." Lexie nodded firmly.
She was younger than Debra and confident in her looks. She believed no man could resist her.
Marion decided to play along.
"Debra doesn't want me involved with other women. You should know that," he said vaguely, trying to test her.
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