Roy Lewis had just finished speaking with Victor, and an intense, sharp pain emanated from his waist.
Unable to suppress a low grunt, he looked down to see Richelle Dunn retracting her hand from his waist.
His waist was sensitive, and his gaze dimmed. He reached out to encircle his arm around Richelle, bringing her into an embrace while looking at her with profound meaning.
"Richelle, are you trying to murder your husband?"
Richelle threw him a defiant glance, "Roy Lewis, if I recall correctly, we are just friends, aren't we?"
Roy Lewis couldn't resist reaching out to stroke her face, entranced by the delightful softness of her skin, making it more difficult for him to let her go.
"I've always said, you're my future wife. Is there anything wrong with that?"
Richelle rolled her eyes at him, aware now was not the time for such banter, "Alright, we will settle this later. Now, what did Victor say?"
Mention of the matter at hand rendered Roy Lewis serious.
