17 The Guests

The Third Person’s POV

In the drawing room, the housekeeper and the Lord looked at the three unconscious people on the dining table and let out a long breath.

"My Lord, what should we do?"

The butler, who had been standing silently behind the Lord as a backdrop, nervously questioned Clair as he carefully wiped the sweat from his forehead with the kerchief on his chest. His whole body seemed strained by the strain.

"Just give them the woman. Just follow our rules."

Clair touched his beard, his fat eyes gleaming, and looked at the two men lying on the table, "I don't feel so good, especially the one who doesn't talk much..."

The housekeeper could not help looking at the tall, dark-haired figure. Although he had fainted, the housekeeper remembered the man's threatening, overbearing gaze. It made his hair stand on end.

"What about them?"

"Get rid of it." Clair's moustache twitched and he gave a smug smile. He touched the small bottle in his arms and gestured to the housekeeper to take car