Rafael plucked a cigar from the box on the table, holding it between his lips and lighting it.

The smoke billowed around him, shrouding his face in a veil of mist, obscuring his expression.

He rarely smoked around Eileen, both to avoid subjecting her to secondhand smoke and to prevent the expensive cigar from revealing his identity.

But now, with no need for such caution in the future, Rafael's eyes darkened further, almost suffocating Abel with the waves of intensity.

Abel, desperate to clear his name, pleaded, "Second Master, it couldn't have been me. Think about it, I'm with you every day, rarely interacting with Ms. Grandelle. How could I...