Benjamin lost his temper, blurting out hurtful words without a second thought.
He never would have believed Marguerite would show up at the party with Leonard, let alone make such a public display of it. The sight made his blood boil, but there was nothing he could do—he couldn’t just snatch her back in front of everyone.
“Thanks for your... thoughtful warning,” Marguerite replied, not angry but almost amused. She offered him a calm smile and then turned on her heel, walking away without looking back.
As she took a few steps toward the hallway, she noticed Leonard standing alone a little distance away, his eyes fixed on her. Marguerite ran a hand through her hair, flustered, wondering if he had overheard her conversation with Benjamin. There was no way to read his expression—his face was cold, giving nothing away.
“Just now... I didn’t mean to mention your name like that. Did you hear everything? Benjamin just wouldn’t let it go, and I didn’t want to make a scene, so I said what I did,” she explained awkwardly, hoping he’d understand.
“If my name is so useful, feel free to use it as much as you like,” Leonard replied, indifferent. In his mind, it hardly mattered—he planned to let the world know soon enough that Marguerite was his fiancée.
He had seen the argument between her and Benjamin, but had hung back deliberately, curious to see if she could handle the situation on her own. She hadn’t disappointed him. After all, he couldn’t always be by her side; there would be times she’d have to stand alone. He wanted her to grow stronger, braver.
Marguerite looked at him, surprised. Gently, Leonard took her wrist in his hand. The skin was red and swollen, the pain evident just by looking.
“Come home with me,” Leonard said, already leading her away.

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