Chapter 74
As the door opened, Myra stepped into the VIP room, holding Tony’s suit over her arm. The atmosphere immediately shifted, and everyone’s attention turned toward her.
Tony, still in his white shirt and bandaged arm, remained seated at the poker table, his gaze cool but attentive. The room was thick with anticipation.
Elliot’s eyes widened, his previous irritation forgotten. “Wait a minute,” he said, his voice almost incredulous. “She’s here? Is this really happening?” He glanced at Tony, whose face remained unreadable. “Is she—?”
Tony raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. His gaze never left Myra as she slowly walked toward him.
Myra, trying to suppress the awkwardness she felt, offered the suit and the folded document to Tony. “Director Hart,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with hesitation, “I brought your suit and the document you asked for.”
The others were staring at her, curiosity written on their faces, but Myra kept her focus on Tony, unwilling to let the discomfort show too much.
Tony finally stood up, taking the suit and document from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers for just a second. That brief contact made Myra’s heart race.
“I didn’t expect you to come all the way here for this,” Tony said, his tone soft but with an edge of something unreadable. “It’s not necessary.”
“I—It wasn’t a big deal,” Myra replied quickly, wanting to retreat but holding herself steady. “I just thought it was easier to bring it directly than leave it at the receptionist.”
Tony’s lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “You’ve done enough, Miss Stark.”
As Tony turned back toward his seat, the others sat in silence, watching the exchange with growing interest. Myra hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should leave or stay.
Elliot’s voice cut through the tension. “Well, now that she’s here… why don’t you join us, Myra?” He gestured toward an empty chair. “You might as well, since you’ve made the effort.”
Tony’s eyes flickered toward Elliot, warning him with a glance. But Elliot either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and Myra found herself being pulled into their circle, the atmosphere turning unexpectedly casual.
She sat, albeit reluctantly, the tension between her and Tony palpable, yet unspoken.
Philip, noticing the awkward silence, decided to change the subject. “Tony,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Elliot’s right. You should hurry up and make her your ‘future Mrs. Hart.’ It’s about time you stopped playing coy.”
Tony’s expression didn’t change, but there was a subtle glint in his eyes as he looked at Myra. “I’m not in a hurry.”
Myra, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention, especially not in this way. “I should go,” she said quickly, standing up. “It’s getting late, and I don’t want to interrupt.”
But Tony’s gaze lingered on her, his eyes intense, as if weighing her every word.
“Stay,” Tony said, his voice low and almost a command.
For a moment, Myra stood frozen, the desire to leave battling with the need to understand what was happening between them. Eventually, she nodded, albeit reluctantly, and sat back down, unsure of what this moment would lead to.