Later, he met with several members of the elite, their ages ranging from 30 to 40 years old.

They all looked very respectable.

However, there was an exceedingly fascinating woman among them. Before leaving, that woman noticed Cecilia and asked, "Mr. Evans, is she...”

Mark didn't appreciate it when others tried to probe into his private life, so he replied hastily, “Just my junior.”

Cecilia wanted to plead her brother's case with Mark.

But Mark was busy meeting groups of people. Wouldn't he be tired by the time he was finished?

Later, she couldn't hold on any longer and fell asleep on the sofa. She held one of the throw pillows tightly.

It was already nightfall when Mark sent away the last group of people with whom he met.

He was tired, and drinking a glass of wine always helped relieve some of his fatigue.

The suite was dimly light.

Mark had changed into a black formal suit, looking quite calm.

Holding a glass of red wine, he stared at Cecilia who was sound asleep on the sofa. The light from outside the French window shone in, bathing her delicate face in a warm glow.

He was so fascinated by her that he couldn't help beaming.

He wondered how he ended up with such a sweetheart on his couch.

She was so simple and so innocent, and she threw caution to the wind.

Maybe it was because of his scorching gaze that Cecilia's eyelids suddenly flew open. She rubbed her eyes, got up, and knelt on the sofa.

She had a slender figure and long inky hair.

She was wearing a long white dress.

She was quite ravishing, not like a child at all.

Seeing Mark staring at her, Cecilia called to him softly, “Uncle Mark.”

“Im sorry. Did | wake you?"

Mark put down his glass and asked, "Aren't you afraid of sleeping in a strange man’s hotel suite?"