Chapter 90

(Serena's POV)

My eyes were fixated at Marcus and Frieda's direction, digging my grilled peach-wrapped shaved Iberico ham with a parsley-pepita pistou on a heart skewer, cucumber-mint gazpacho with smoked paprika seared shrimp and pimiento crema, and heirloom tomato, Castel Vetrano olive, and aged manchego croustade and a lemon juice.

Definitely, I'm starving.

They were giggling, touching, or hitting each other's shoulders while talking about something I don't know.

Definitely a show-off.

People might think something is going on between those two.

Yes, I'm upset but I put my trust in Marcus.

Only an idiot would do such a thing with a massive crowd.

I concentrated on the food that was in front of me. I don't want to waste the blessings freely given to me. I continued digging in the shrimp without glancing at those traitors. But I was startled that someone unfamiliar sat in my opposite seat.

It's a not-so-gorgeous man, wearing a black Panther suit. He seems enjoying the wine in his hand