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Chapter 44: Laughter

Giselle tiptoed, arching her foot into an enticingly sensual curve that captured Henry Jefferson’s gaze. It reminded him of the delicate pose she would sometimes assume during their intimate moments. As she gracefully extended her limbs, she resembled a pristine white lotus in bloom, pure and untouchable. Her skirt swayed gently with each movement, her turns executed with flawless precision, reminiscent of willow branches dancing in the breeze—delicate yet resilient. With each step, Giselle's dance grew more enthralling, and her expression shifted, revealing a hint of melancholy in her eyes as though she were sharing a secret sorrow. Henry watched her face, his instinct to protect her stirring within him. Their wine had been finished, and an observant waiter promptly brought another glass, though it lacked the rich aroma of Giselle’s earlier drink. Henry barely sipped it before setting it aside. On the third beat of the music, Giselle’s eyes caught Megan emerging onto the deck.

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