Chapter 641 Marlin Loves Me The Most

Norah's playful banter cast a complicated mood over the private room. It seemed Marlin and Norah were quite familiar with each other.

Marlin's cigarette hand stilled. He lifted his gaze to meet Norah's silhouette backlit by the doorway.

He examined her eyes carefully and found that they were indeed a little similar to those in his memory.

But he got rid of that thought quickly.

He'd found the woman he'd been searching.

Dolores' eyes narrowed with suspicion. Norah's presence was a calculated move, an unwelcome intrusion. Marlin barely knew this woman, yet here she was, shamelessly chummy with him. "Miss Wilson, Dolores drawled, her voice laced with feigned sweetness,

"where's your boyfriend? It is my birthday, after all. Did he send his regards?" Ignoring Dolores entirely, Norah fixed her gaze on the man sprawled on the central sofa.

"Marlin," she said, her voice cutting through the sudden hush that had fallen

over the room, "I'm asking you." Silence. The only sound was the pulsing music thrumming in the background.

Smoke swirled upwards, blurring Marlin's vision and obscuring Norah's face. When it cleared, the glint in her eyes sent a jolt through him.

"What are you on about?" he snapped, his voice defensive. "I have no clue what you're insinuating."

The ember glowed dangerously close to his fingertips. With a grimace, he crushed the cigarette into the ashtray.

Grabbing a nearby goblet, he drained it in one swift gulp. The crystal clinked sharply as he slammed it back on the table.

His gaze remained fixed on Norah, oblivious to Dolores fuming beside him,

her hands clenched into tight fists. A sly smile played on Norah's lips, both charming and dangerous.

"Well, then," she drawled, "if that's all you have to say."

She found a seat near the exit and settled in. "Thanks for the assist, by the way."

She wasn't oblivious; she recognized his veiled support and offered a quiet word of gratitude.

The bartender wheeled in a cart loaded with booze, and Gerry stepped forward to verify the number.

Dolores, ever perceptive, felt a surge of unease. The woman she instinctively

disliked from the very beginning was now a confirmed threat. Her sharp eyes caught Marlin staring intently at Norah, a look she'd neve

witnessed him bestow upon another woman. "Thirty-two bottles in total," Gerry announced, setting down the cart. "Ten of

them red wine."

"Sounds good," Marlin muttered, adjusting his collar self-consciously.

"Today is Dolores' birthday, everyone. Let's have a good time. This one's on me." A murmur of appreciation rippled through the room.

The atmosphere shifted, a wave of sycophancy washing over Marlin. "Marlin, you're too generous!" one exclaimed. "Dolores, you're a lucky woman to have a boyfriend like him."

"Seriously," another chimed in, "I envy you, Dolores."

Dolores basked in the praise. This was what she craved - the admiration, the envy. It was the sole reason she was with Marlin, a trophy to flaunt, a status symbol.

Norah sat alone, an island in a sea of revelry. No one approached her and no one offered her conversation.

Gerry, however, took pity on her isolation. "Miss Wilson," he offered kindly, "why not join the fun? Have a drink?"

Dolores, feigning graciousness, chimed in, "Of course, Miss Wilson! Since you're close with Martin's dad, you're welcome here. Come, have a drink."

Her voice dripped with veiled condescension as she addressed her friend.

"That bottle costs thirty thousand dollars, you know. Be careful not to spill it." Her friend's eyes widened in disbelief. "Thirty thousand? I thought it was a few thousand at most!"

Dolores' triumphant smile stretched across her face. "Naturally, only the finest

wine suits Marlin," she declared. Her friend's envy was palpable. "Dolores, you're so lucky. I wish I had your life."

Dolores, despite her newfound luxury, had never encountered such a price tag. Her own monthly salary was a mere four thousand dollars. Yet, she maintained her facade, a mask of contentment.

"Marlin loves me the most, after all," she purred, her words laced with deliberate emphasis, a barb aimed squarely at Nora.