"Keep quiet, you both!" Marcus Norwell snapped at them, "It is time for us to work on our plans."
Luciana wanted to say something but she kept her mouth shut when her father focused his piercing glare on her.
"Princess," Marcus approached Esme carefully, having already witnessed her prowess. She even dared to go against a powerful existence like Marilyn who was only heard of in folklores. This woman was exceptional undoubtedly, "The late Prince wanted to..."
"Keep your mouth shut unless you want to die," Esme interrupted the man.
Marcus frowned, a chill ran down his spine when Esme raised her head to look at him, the pair of reddening eyes were horrifying, beautiful yet brutal.
"Late... Who do you think you are referring to?" Esme hugged Aleister in her arms protectively. She could not understand what these people were thinking. Yes, he was wounded and a little tired so he was resting. Why did they have to claim that he is no more?
