Female NovelThe driver said apologetically, “Miss Fowler stopped the car.”
Ignoring the awkward situation, Cecilia opened the car door and squeezed into the vehicle, making her way to Flora’s side.
The ambiance grew exceedingly awkward.
Flora’s clothing lay in tatters, baring a substantial expanse of her skin.
The man’s attire appeared disheveled and unkempt.Contents belong to NovelDrama.Org
“Take me to the airport,” Cecilia uttered in a rigid tone.
Flora’s face turned pale with anger. “Do I owe you anything?”
Cecilia remained resolute, refusing to budge from her seat.
The man smiled and placated Flora, “Just give her a ride.”
He held great affection for Flora and secretly hoped that Cecilia’s presence might prompt Mark to reconsider, granting him a chance with Flora. Each had their own motivations in mind. The driver directed the car towards the airport.
Throughout the journey, Cecilia wept, consumed by the thought that Mark might be facing undisclosed troubles.
As Flora busied herself with reattaching her clothes, her desire for any intimacy vanished, dampened by Cecilia’s constant tears.
Late into the night, with no flights available, Cecilia sat alone in the lounge, clutching a ticket for the earliest departure to Czanch on the following day.
She could have gone home first.
But impatience gripped her and she chose to sit and wait here.
The idea of calling Mark crossed her mind, but she hesitated, fearing that he might not answer.
In the distance, a group of people passed by.
Seven individuals surrounded a handsome man, making their way toward the VIP passage.
The man glanced around and noticed a young woman sitting alone in the empty departure lounge, her sorrow evident from her posture.
From behind, she bore a striking resemblance to Cecilia.
But why was Cecilia here? Would she cry once again tonight?
Mark stood there silently for a long while until Peter’s reminder broke his reverie, “Mr. Evans, the private plane is about to depart.”