Timothy York remained seated at the dining table, his head lowered as he looked at the messages on his phone. A hint of coldness seeped into his usually gentle and refined features.
Ivan Gray hurried over to his side. After a moment of thought, he decided to report on Summer Thorne first. "Miss Thorne is in Sudor."
Upon hearing this, the hint of coldness in Timothy York's expression vanished without a trace.
"Where?" Timothy York asked.
Ivan Gray took a shallow breath and said, "Right here, in this hotel... I just ran into her in the corridor. She must have come here and seen you."
At his words, Timothy York's brow twitched uncontrollably.
'She was just here?'
'What did she see?'
'Did she stay away to avoid suspicion, or because she was upset about something else?'
For a moment, a torrent of thoughts flooded Timothy York's mind. Just as he was about to stand up, Ivan Gray suddenly grabbed him and blurted out the most urgent matter—
