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... Felix?" Nathan Moore’s obsidian eyes searched the banquet hall, but he didn’t spot the figure of Felix Shaw.

Nicholas Croft curved his lips into a smile, and looked down at the champagne in his hands, his voice helpless.

"He’s still in the lounge throwing a tantrum."

"Throwing a tantrum?" Nathan repeated, puzzled.

"Yeah, apparently he’s taken a fancy to a newcomer who just started her career, and wants to marry her, but the old man wouldn’t allow it, so he rushed ...

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