Ah, did it fail?

Mrs. Miller was undeniably beautiful, but what really drew people in was her unique aura of melancholy, typical of a widow, which instinctively triggered a protective urge in men. Of course, it could also provoke the opposite desire to dominate her.

But none of this concerned Ethan.

With his current physical strength, he wouldn't stand a chance if he tried to force anything on Mrs. Miller.

Luckily, the situation didn't require any drastic measures.

"Aunt Sofia," Ethan said, his hand resting on her slender waist, feeling the softness of her body through her clothes.

"Not now, please," Mrs. Miller pleaded, looking up at him with eyes that begged and cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

She was sitting next to a young man even younger than her own son.

She tried to muster some authority as an elder.