Corley smiled. "I'm chasing what I want. Don't worry about it. How will I know the outcome if I don't try?"

Roseanne said with concern, "Even if it ends in disappointment?"

His gaze deepened. "Then I'll accept it."

She hadn't expected him to be so stubborn and fell silent.

Noticing her mood, Corley didn't push the conversation further but quietly listened to the waves with her. It wasn't until well past midnight that he finally left.

Roseanne thought about his silent defiance and determination. In truth, Corley was a man who knew his limits and boundaries. His pursuit was neither aggressive nor reckless, always mindful not to trouble her, unlike Murray, who used to chase her relentlessly and would fly off the handle at the drop of a hat.

Roseanne sighed, knowing there was little she could do to stop others' actions.

"Just focus on doing you," she told herself.

As she headed back inside, she caught sight of a shadow standing silently in the dark, almost like a ghost.

She nearly screamed in fright. The shadow entered the light, and Roseanne finally saw it was Murray.

"Murray, what the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed.

Standing there in the middle of the night without a word was indeed terrifying.

Roseanne had ducked out of the party early, and suddenly, the night lost its sparkle for Murray. He followed her outside but couldn't spot her anywhere.

However, Millie stuck to him like glue, complaining of hunger and wanting to eat. Murray's patience ran thin, utterly frustrated. He eventually flagged down a waiter to take Millie to the dining area.

Due to the hotel's strict privacy measures, Murray had made some effort to get Roseanne's room number. Eager, he found her and Corley standing side by side on the balcony, looking out at the sea.

Her white bohemian backless dress fluttered in the sea breeze, her expression calm, her hair cascading down her shoulders, a solitary figure in the night. The man stood tall, broad-shouldered and lean. Together, they looked like a scene from a painting. Murray froze in place. It wasn't until Corley left that Roseanne noticed him.

Murray still wore the mask from the party, his eyes carrying a faint, dark glint. He stepped forward, causing Roseanne's brow to furrow.

Roseanne asked coldly, "Why are you here? I've said all there is to say, you..."

Before she could finish, her wrist got seized with a forceful grip.

"Why can he and not I?" Murray demanded, eyes blazing.

Roseanne struggled, then met his gaze head-on. "What madness are you on about now?"

"I saw Corley here just now," Murray said. "Do you even know what kind of man he is?"

His breath was close, and Roseanne stepped back. "What are you trying to say?"

Roseanne's withdrawal only fueled his anger, his tone growing harsher, "Do you think he's into you? He's nothing but a cunning fox, a playboy who fucks around. Don't let him fool you."

Groomed as the heir to his family from a young age, Corley rarely expressed his likes or dislikes. He was a man of few words but deep thoughts.

Even as his buddy, Murray sometimes couldn't fathom what was going through Corley's mind. The sudden hostility made him doubt Corley's intentions, suspecting he might be using Roseanne for some ulterior motive. Roseanne couldn't understand and lost interest in deciphering their motives and stated, "Whatever his intentions, they have nothing to do with me."

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