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CHAPTER NINE – INVITATION TO THE DINNER PARTY

The floor seemed to tilt under Scarlett's feet as she saw Henry occupying her chair, his brow furrowed as he scanned her notebook. "Mr. Davies?" she managed, her voice barely a whisper. He looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he schooled it into nonchalance. "Scarlett," he drawled, his voice devoid of warmth. "How are you doing?" "Fine," she replied cautiously, her gaze flicking between Henry and the notebook he was holding. He cleared his throat, setting the notebook down with a slight thump. "Did you have any fun last night?" He asked, his voice laced with a curious edge that sent a shiver down her spine. Scarlett narrowed her eyes, her guard instantly rising. "Fun? What do you mean?" she countered, her voice clipped. "Well," Henry began, leaning back in her chair, "according to reliable sources, you were seen getting quite cozy with Randall Crawford at a club last night." A surge of anger flared in Scarlett's chest. "Reliable sources?" she scoffed. "You me

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