Ignatius Leclair glared at the uninvited warlord leader, his expression dark to the extreme, and said coldly, "Griffith Squire, do you think this is your Golden Triangle, where you can barge in as you please?"
The tall and sharp figure of the man blocked the corridor, his eyebrows and eyes filled with anger. His phoenix-shaped eyes narrowed as he stared intently at their clasped hands.
Griffith Squire, caught in the act, directly pulled Delphine out of the small attic and shielded her behind him. He sneered coldly, "Save me your pompous airs, Crown Prince of the South Seas. I've never seen a man as disgraceful as you. You've treated your own woman like this, and you still have the gall to act justified?"
Griffith didn't hold back his scolding, even channeling all the anger of the past few days onto him. What nonsense—a man hogging such a remarkable girl and not even cherishing her properly.
