Logan Johnson stared at him, and suddenly burst into laughter, his captivating phoenix-like eyes carrying a hint of frost, "Marcus Sharp, it seems you haven't yet crossed the threshold into the Johnson Clan."
"Are you sure you want to speak to me that way?"
Marcus Sharp's face bore no expression, just calmly looking at Logan Johnson, "Uncle, don't misunderstand, I just hope you realize that Ellie will eventually be my Lady, and in the future, when you refer to my wife, it would be better to first ask for my opinion."
Marcus Sharp held Ellie Doyle's hand as if declaring his sovereignty.
This action irritated Logan Johnson.
Logan Johnson frowned, "Sister, come here."
Ellie's eyes flickered, she pushed Marcus Sharp's hand away, and lowered her voice, "Since you're almost fine now, let's meet at the airport tomorrow morning."
Marcus Sharp glanced at Ellie's hand pushing him away, slightly displeased, and his brow wrinkled slightly, "My Lady, I suddenly feel a pain in my chest."