Better Late, But Never His Again novel Chapter 36

Hazel stared at the large hand extended toward her, her mind slightly dazed, before she slowly placed her hand in his.

The next second, Marcus pulled her up. It wasn't until her feet were firmly planted on the floor that her senses finally returned. She murmured, "I'm sorry, Mr. Thornton. I picked the wrong size. Can I go choose another one?"

Marcus's expression shifted back to his signature half-smile. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Take your time."

Hazel let out a deep breath and walked back into the selection area. This time, she picked a golden-yellow silk gown and went into the fitting room to change.

Looking in the mirror, Hazel paused. She felt almost like a stranger to herself. She couldn't even remember the last time she had worn such a bright, striking color, all because of Julian's passing comment about not liking it. She had completely abandoned everything she loved for him.

Thinking about it now, she couldn't help but mock herself internally. She had lived a life entirely devoid of her own identity.

Thankfully, it wasn't too late to wake up.

Marcus's deep voice drifted from behind her. "Ready?"

Hazel turned around. He had already changed his clothes and stepped out of the VIP lounge. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, he looked effortlessly aristocratic and unapproachable, his striking eyes still carrying that characteristic lazy amusement.

Hazel nodded and walked over. "I'm ready, Mr. Thornton."

Marcus's gaze landed on her and completely stalled.

The golden-yellow silk gown was tailored flawlessly, accentuating her slender waist and long legs. The subtle plum blossom embroidery woven into the fabric seemed to shimmer as she moved, making her look like a rare, breathtaking vision—cool, aloof, and utterly stunning. A flash of genuine awe crossed his eyes.

Marcus curled his lips into a smile, his tone tinged with casual approval. "Dr. Garrison, you really are full of surprises."

Hazel didn't respond, merely lowering her gaze.

The complex knot of emotions still weighed heavily in her chest, like the damp residue left behind by a receding tide—invisible, yet impossible to ignore.

Marcus didn't say anything else, simply turning to walk toward the exit. "Let's go."

Hazel followed close behind.

...

The car pulled up to a grand three-story banquet hall.

"That's really Mr. Thornton. Sweetheart, if you can find a chance to exchange even two words with him, your father's company will be saved."

A chorus of polite greetings echoed around them. Some wanted to approach and chat but were intimidated by his natural, commanding aura, settling for respectful nods from a distance instead.

Marcus effortlessly became the epicenter of power in the entire ballroom.

Walking beside him, Hazel could feel those same eyes curiously assessing her.

She felt a flutter of anxiety. This was the first time she had attended an event like this since returning to the Institute.

A low, magnetic voice murmured by her ear. "Nervous?"

Hazel looked up, meeting his amused gaze.

She pressed her lips together, then shook her head with a faint smile. "No, just a bit overwhelmed. I've never been to a place like this before. Please forgive me if I seem out of place, Mr. Thornton."

Marcus let out a low, deeply pleasant chuckle and said nothing more, leading her further into the hall.