She responded casually, "Oh, I left my phone and wallet inside. Come in with me to get the money."

Melissa's voice was low as she replied, "I'll just wait here at the door."

Sylvia grinned. “You're avoiding Mr. Fowler, right? He's sick, running a high fever. I touched his forehead. His body temp must be at least 39 degrees. The medical facilities here aren't great. What if the fever affects his brain? He's not married and doesn't have kids yet."

Melissa was at a loss for words at this point.

"Just come in. He's asleep."

With Little choice, Melissa followed Sylvia inside. The suite was as opulent as she had imagined. But upon entering, she was greeted by the smell of cigarettes laced with a masculine scent.

It was unmistakably Marcus.

The familiar scent stirred something in Melissa, making her want to cry.

Melissa felt a wave of embarrassment. Sylvia handed her some change and said, "Don't you want to see Mr. Fowler? If I'm not mistaken, you have feelings for him too. Even if you don't, you're kind-hearted.

He's always shown kindness to you. I've never seen him care for any girl as much as he does for you."

Those words came from the bottom of her heart.

Melissa felt that ignoring Marcus now would be cold-hearted and ungrateful.

After much hesitation, she finally stepped inside.

There, she found that Marcus was fast asleep.

He did appear ill, his usually handsome face flushed with fever.

Melissa rarely had the chance to observe him so closely.

He was undeniably attractive, but she usually avoided staring at him, for his gaze had the power to make her knees go weak.

Now, she seized the opportunity.

Feeling compelled, she half—-knelt beside him, captivated by his face resting against the pillow. He had such a strikingly captivating face, even in the simple bathrobe.

It was then that Melissa became acutely aware of her own appearance.