Ignatius Leclair glanced at the uninvited young female psychologist standing outside the door, his sharp brows furrowing slightly as he said indifferently, "How did Miss Joe manage to find her way here?"
"I asked Mr. Maximilian," Sharn Joe replied. Today, she was dressed in an overtly feminine style: a pale yellow dress paired with a white blazer, projecting a warmth tinged with an air of businesslike competence.
Sharn's heartbeat quickened. The man had evidently just showered—his damp hair a testament to the fact. The long gray bathrobe, despite its conservative length, exposed his seductive collarbone. His refined features carried a calm yet strikingly handsome allure, and his entire presence exuded the elegance and sophistication only cultivated within a noble family.
The female psychologist tightened her grip discreetly and said, "I sincerely apologize for the rumors. If they've caused you any trouble, I promise I won't appear before you again in the future."
