23. Secretary

Sitting at his own office desk, Maxmilian Philips swallowed his cigar and put it in the ashtray, staring at the computer in front of him. A knock on the door sounded.

"Hello, sir. I brought you some water and coffee."

And of course, that was Michelle, who even after all the confusion and eventual death of Mariana, was still in office.

Max just stared at her and thanked her with his eyes as he clicked and typed.

The woman with red hair tied up in a bun, social uniform, and lips painted crimson felt the icy stare of her own boss, but said nothing. Propping the tray on the table, she took the opportunity to examine her lover further.

"He's so tense. Are you still sad about the death of your ex-wife?"

Maxmilian's dark eyes almost pierced through her.

"Michelle, I'll let you ponder the question itself rather than answer it."

Shocked, the secretary puts one of her hands on her waist.

"Why are you talking to me that way? I haven't done anything to you."

"Of course. I'm sorry, Michelle."

The