Chelsea and Altsin walked out of the room, fully dressed.

On the first floor of the hotel, Stapleton was waiting for them in a café. He sat with his legs crossed, leaning lazily against the sofa, exuding a boss-like demeanor. From afar, he watched the two approach, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Some people just have that aura. Even holding hands, they seem to radiate pink bubbles of romance, as if they were born to be a perfect couple.

If it weren’t for the fact that this man had neglected Chelsea for three years and treated her poorly, Stapleton, as her second brother, might have thought they were a good match....