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Substitutee Marriage: Fallingg For My Ugly Wifee

Chapter 1002
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“Here we are, miss.”

Millie paid the fare and stepped out of the car.

Marcus, on the verge of leaving, noticed Millie from a distance. Clad in an expensive suit, he stood upright, waiting for her.

Lost in thought about the recent incident, Millie didn’t look ahead.

Marcus observed her and inquired, “Have you gone out?”

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“Yes, honey,” Millie blurted out. But when she looked up and saw two senior executives standing with him, she quickly corrected herself.

“Mr. Thomas.”

Marcus inclined his head and signaled the others to enter the car first.

Noticing Marcus’ silent stare, Millie offered, “I just went to the Fairclough family’s house to discuss the design.”

Then it dawned on her that Marcus might not know about it yet.

“I forgot to tell you that I’ve been given the opportunity to design jewelry for Miss Fairclough’s wedding.”

Marcus nodded. The Fairclough family had already informed him that Millie would be designing the wedding jewelry.

“What happened on the way? You don’t look well,” Marcus asked, patience and concern evident in his voice. He studied Millie, who appeared distracted and empty-handed.

Frowning, Millie looked around, about to tell him what had transpired.

Derek approached and announced, “Mr. Thomas, it’s tto go.”

“Nothing. It’s just that I feel Millie shook her head and responded, a little uncomfortable under the sun.”

She was still preoccupied with the incident and unsure how to explain it.

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“If you feel uncomfortable, go hand have a rest.”

Marcus had indeed arranged a rendezvous with an acquaintance, Leaving him with no room for further delay. Following a concise exchange, he departed.

Meanwhile, Millie retraced her steps to her office, systematically expelling all lingering thoughts from her mental landscape. The pursuit of perfection in her work had now surged to the forefront of her priorities.

Within the confines of the No. 1 subterranean bar, the portal to the private chamber reserved by Bruce swung open, ushering in the entry of Ryan Morgan, bearing the belongings Millie had inadvertently dropped.

Bruce lowered his teacup, affixing an unwavering gaze upon the newcomer, his countenance unflinching.

Taking a seat, Ryan unveiled the contents of Millie’s design draft, his gaze descending deep into its artistic depths.

A sidelong shake of Bruce’s head punctuated his quiet sips of tea.