CHAPTER 154 He's a Man Who Loves Deeply

　　"Iceland Café. We need to talk."

　　The message was signed—Bethany.

　　I had a pretty good idea of what she wanted to discuss. There was no reason for me to avoid it.

　　The café she mentioned was right across from the beauty center.

　　As soon as I stepped inside, I scanned the room.

　　Bethany, sitting in the corner, lifted a hand and waved at me.

　　The café was dimly lit and cozy, yet she was wearing oversized sunglasses, likely to avoid being photographed.

　　I walked over, pulled out the chair across from her, and sat down.

　　A waiter came over to take my order. I had never been particularly fond of coffee, so I asked for an orange juice.

　　Bethany was stirring her coffee with a small spoon, her fingers long and delicate, painted with jet-black nail polish—seductive and striking.

　　I was almost relieved she had those sunglasses on. Otherwise, looking at that face—a perfect replica of Nancy's—would've made it difficult for me to keep my composure.