Titus Zane returned to the villa at ten o'clock in the morning and, upon seeing the man sitting on the sofa, paused in surprise. However, he quickly came to terms with the situation.
Since he was going to confront him anyway, not going to work was actually convenient. It was better to speak face-to-face than over the phone.
He was still dressed as he had been when he left the house the day before. The shirt and wide-legged pants under his trench coat were slightly wrinkled, but they did not detract from his beauty.
Especially his casually draped long hair and his unpainted face. Though it looked somewhat pale, it had an added sense of disheveled beauty.
"Brother, where did you go last night? Why didn't you call to let us know you were safe? I was so worried," Olivia Zane approached in her wheelchair, her tone reproachful yet unable to hide her "worry".
Titus gave her a glance, his expression indifferent.
