"Mr. Anderson," the head staff suddenly interrupted, "I thought you had to leave earlier…"
Daisy immediately turned. "So, you know him?" Her voice was cold, laced with clear annoyance.
"Err—Mr. Anderson is one of our spons—"
She didn't wait for her to finish. Daisy rushed past her to the bed. "Dad, let's find another place. This one smells rotten."
Without hesitation, she marched toward the wardrobe in the corner and began packing.
But just as she reached for a folded shirt, an arm gently caught her movement.
"Can you calm down first?" The man's voice was low and soft, cutting through the tension like it belonged. Then he turned to the head staff. "You can go for now. She's my fiancée."
"Huh?" Daisy scoffed. "Fiancée?" She waved a hand and chuckled dryly at the stunned woman. "Don't believe his nonsense. He tends to mumble delusional thoughts."
Then her eyes snapped back to him, sharp and unforgiving.
