Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 1921

"Not at all. Ms. Fitzgerald, you may not know my name, but you've been thinking about me for days. It shows that, besides my medical skills, my charm isn't too bad either," Kingsley said, his eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin.

"I've been thinking about…" Abigail narrowed her eyes, her fists clenched. "How I'd twist your head off!"

With those words, both of them moved at the same time—one swung a punch, the other aimed a needle. Their hands collided, and the tension was palpable, the atmosphere electric.

Chandler's face darkened. "Kingsley, apologize."

A man should have some grace; why did he always provoke her?

Kingsley, though reluctant, begrudgingly withdrew his needle and muttered an apology. "Sorry! You're magnanimous, generous, bountiful—"

This time, Abigail slapped him across the other cheek, perfectly balancing the two.

He was stunned, holding both cheeks. "What the hell!"

"Don't think I didn't hear it. You were being sarcastic!" She was seething.

"Please, can't you let me finish? I was complimenting your magnanimity, okay? Are you uncultured?" He felt wronged.

She was momentarily embarrassed but quickly became assertive. "I grew up in Morg. Is it so strange that I don't know? It's your fault for loving to show off so much."

With that, she turned and went upstairs.

He rubbed his face and muttered, still in disbelief, "This woman is so fierce. There's no way she'll get married!"

Chandler had already anticipated this response. He changed the subject suddenly, "You've tried to get us to leave this house several times. You're worried about the things inside being discovered and destroyed, right?"

At this, a flicker of surprise flashed in Kingsley's eyes before he quickly masked it, though Chandler caught it.

He feigned indifference. "You're overthinking. I'm just curious about how bold the leader of Destiny Corporation really is."

"Is that so? Well, you can choose to refuse me. I guarantee that this place will be reduced to rubble within three days." Chandler's lips curved slightly, his demeanor confident and commanding.

The two of them stood motionless, eyes locked in a silent standoff.

If looks could be weapons, Kingsley's would be a sharp blade, cutting through the air with precision, while Chandler's would be an unstoppable cannon, piercing straight to the heart.