She greeted him with a smile and inquired, "Are you here to visit Mr. Evans or to speak with me?"

Simon was prepared to plead.

Mark, in the midst of receiving an intravenous drip, was glancing at the news on his phone.

He didn't lift his gaze as he casually remarked, "You haven't washed your hair. Your shoes are caked in mud, and your face is smeared with grease. Mr. Lewis, I have pneumonia. With that appearance, are you here to visit me or to torment me?"

Simon felt a sense of embarrassment.

Mark maintained a polite demeanor with Simon out of consideration for Cecilia.

It had led Simon to believe that Mark was not haughty and was, in fact, a kind-hearted man. However, he now knew Mark was far from being kind.

A shiver ran down Simon's spine.

Mark's tone suddenly turned serious.

"Mr. Lewis, Cecilia may be laid-back, but I'm not that easy to get along with. If you doubt my words, you can step outside and ask about it. I haven't casually handed out eighty million dollars to just anyone just like that.”

Cold sweat formed on Simon's forehead.

Mark's tone softened.

"To be honest, I don't pry into Cecilia's career. I simply can't stand to see my wife being mistreated." He took a deep breath.

"I'm overstepping my bounds. Sort out your work matters amongst yourselves. I won't offer any more advice. Otherwise, Cecilia might accuse me of meddling too much, which could strain our relationship as a couple."

Mark struck a balance between wisdom and compassion.

He was truly something.

Cecilia grumbled inwardly. She was reluctant to acknowledge any romantic involvement with Mark.

But Cecilia felt immensely grateful that Mark had given her room to maneuver. She needed to preserve his dignity especially with an outsider in the mix.

Cecilia approached and adjusted the drip rate, deliberately slowing it down.

Mark glanced up at her with profound eyes.