Spencer took the punch like a champ, his cheek swelling and throbbing with pain. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, puffing it out into a bulge. As his tongue retreated, the bulge subsided, but the redness and swelling remained.

Adjusting his skewed glasses, Spencer turned to look at the fuming Alaric and said with unnerving calm, "Mr. Falconer seems rather concerned about her."

Alaric locked eyes with Spencer, whose gaze was calm but carried an undercurrent of hidden fury behind the lenses.

A sudden realization struck Alaric. He cared for another man's wife, and Spencer was probably jealous. Alaric was restraining his anger, not letting it burst forth.

It was Spencer, as Hertha's husband, who should be the most concerned for her. Alaric had no right even to show concern for Hertha.

His earlier impulsiveness had led to him hitting Spencer, and now he felt in the wrong, lacking a solid footing. But Alaric, accustomed to a life of privilege and flattery, was not the kind to easily apologize. Glancing away, he said, "Hertha is an old friend of mine. I think my concern is justified."

of Hertha's. Nothing more than that. If there's nothing else, I'd appreciate

indifferent, but they

on his heel and

watched Spencer walk confidently towards

the angrier he had become,

he no longer had any place in Hertha's

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happened, they were the ones bound together,

was, at best,

to meddle in Hertha's affairs or to rebuke her husband for

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