?Chapter 1191:


    Marc kept hisposure, masking irritation with a polite grin. “Stel’s still recovering. The doctor suggested she rest at home. This kind of setting isn’t ideal for her right now.”


    “Is that so?” Clifford tilted his head, mock concern dripping from his tone. His eyes gleamed with implication. “I thought maybe you were worried she’d overhear something you’d rather keep quiet. They say Mr. Briggs has vanished, and everyone’s whispering. You were close to him once, weren’t you? Surely you’ve heard something.”


    As he spoke, his gaze swept the room again. The moment he confirmed William was nowhere to be seen, his expression shifted into a thin mask of disdain aimed at Marc. His words struck like poison-tipped thorns, piercing straight through Marc’s most fragile spot.


    Marc’s grip tightened around the champagne flute, his knuckles paling. Still, he reminded himself that losing his temper here wasn’t an option.


    A momentter, he curved his lips into a restrained smile. “You’re mistaken, Mr. Murray. A man like William doesn’t share his business with outsiders. I’m sure he’s just upied with something important.”


    “Important, you say?” Clifford’s smile sharpened. “I’ve heard the Briggs Group is tearing itself apart. If William doesn’t show up soon, he’ll lose both hispany and his woman.”


    Before Marc could answer, a familiar voice cut in.


    Dulcie Ashton—known for her loyalty to the Briggs family—stepped forward, her tone cold and cutting. “Mr. Walsh, no disrespect meant, but everyone knew Ms. Russell and Mr. Briggs as the perfect pair. Isn’t it rather indecent of you to take her away like that?”


    Wanting his ex-wife back was one thing. Taking her from another man’s arms was unthinkable.


    The hum of voices around Marc swelled into a wave of judgment. He could feel it pressing in, every pair of eyes sharp with ridicule. The air grew heavy, each breath harder to draw, as if the entire hall had been drained of oxygen.


    He straightened, forcingposure into his tone. “Stel and I made this choice after giving it serious thought. I never coerced her into anything, and what I feel for her is real. I hope you’ll alle to our wedding and see for yourselves.”


    A ripple of disbelief spread through the room, followed by a few smirks.


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    Clifford’sugh cut through the noise. “A bold statement, Mr. Walsh. Aren’t you worried that William Briggs might hold it against you when he returns?”


    Marc’s gaze hardened, though his expression didn’t waver. Inside, cold disdain curled at the thought. William’s whereabouts were uncertain—his return doubtful.


    “You’re quite the joker, Mr. Murray. William isn’t the type to cling to grudges. He knows love isn’t something that can be forced.”


    Marc forced himself to stayposed as he continued exchanging polite words with a few guests. Every sentence felt like stepping across fragile ss, knowing one wrong remark could shatter what little dignity remained.


    He was about to excuse himself and slip away when a shadow blocked his path.


    Sharon stood before him, draped in a sleek ck gown that shimmered faintly beneath the chandeliers. Her sharp eyes locked onto him, leaving no room for escape.


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