Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 256: Nyla blinked, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?" Murray offered no explanation, simply turning and walking into the company. "Your wife stopped by Skycloud Group, had a brief exchange with Murray, and then left," Jackson reported, standing composed on the other side of the desk. Ethan remained unmoved, his fingers drumming a steady rhythm on the desk. His face was a blank canvas, betraying no emotion, urging Jackson to keep his words concise. "That's it?" "That's it." Ethan's gaze drifted to the number displayed on his phone.

Logic whispered that he had no cause to care, yet a stubborn knot of irritation twisted in his chest, defying reason. He loathed this feeling. Letting emotions creep in felt like opening the floodgates to chaos. Sensing the subtle storm brewing within Ethan, Jackson cautiously added, "Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Brooks' interaction with Murray was brief. Given the business ties between them, occasional contact is inevitable. But make no mistake-the one she cares for is still you." Ethan turned away, his silhouette outlined against the window. Eyes closed, he let the words settle.

After a moment, he nodded faintly, as if shaking hands with his own thoughts. "I understand. Prepare the items and deliver them to Maple Villa. Pay attention to what she dislikes and make a note." Jackson gave a curt nod. As he stepped out, a thought struck him, and he pivoted back. "Mr. Brooks, there's been some disturbance at the prison. Should we investigate?" More stories at glnov․m Ethan's eyes snapped open, his gaze sharp and unyielding, like a blade unsheathed. "Of course. I heard Hayes is being held there.

Get to the bottom of it." "Understood." At his flower shop, Johnny handed off the last bouquet to a delivery man. Callie strode in, her expression icy, the staccato click of her heels like a war drum announcing her fury. She slammed her bag onto the table, her temper barely restrained. "Why did you meet with Murray?" she demanded through gritted teeth, her glare fixed on Johnny, who was methodically arranging flowers. Her anger, like a wildfire, only grew as she spoke. "Do you have any idea he's investigating our family?

Are you trying to dig our grave by meeting him?" Callie's voice shook with fury as she confronted Johnny. Unfazed, Johnny calmly shifted a flowerpot to a sunnier spot, dusting off his hands with deliberate ease. "I only discussed a few matters with him. That's all." Callie's temper reached its boiling point. "That's all? Don't insult my intelligence! I know exactly what you're up to. You're helping that wretched woman-Nyla." . . .