Relief swirled in the pit of Maxen's stomach. He was thankful that MIB2 didn't divulge that piece of information to the Huks. 

By the looks of it, MIB2 withheld the detail of Maxen marrying Olivia, which meant that the militant group would somehow spare his wife from their plans as she was out of their radars.

Maxen sat on the stool as if it was his throne. The muscles of his forearm clenched as his fingers drummed on the table.

Across from him, Lance Go squirmed in his seat, looking around the room and scanning everyone's faces. His eyes then moved back to the table where it stayed glued for a while. 

The cufflinks danced on top of the cool steel surface as it vibrated because of Maxen's drumming fingers. His eyes then moved to Maxen's ring finger and saw an odd-looking ring. He thought it must be real then—that Olivia and Maxen got married. He knew Olivia would do something as crazy as that. 

Maxen kept drumming on the steel table, and the onyx cufflinks kept on dancing. The ensemble hypnotized Lance Go until a phone ringing echoed in the room disrupted the deafening silence.

Eyebrows arched up in a tent as each person in the room sent an accusing glare to the one standing next to them. But when nobody moved an inch as if chained in their spots, it left most wondering who dared not silent their phone at such a crucial hour.

Clearing his throat, Maxen shifted in his seat. "Oops. That's the wife calling," he said, cringing as he fished his phone from his pocket. 

A smug smile painted his face upon seeing the photo of Olivia's caller ID.

He then flipped the phone screen towards Lance Go's face to show him a photo of him with his wife planting a sweet kiss on his cheek.

It was a photo taken after their civil wedding in New York and by far his favorite one, along with the rest of the photos in his starred "favorite photo" album, which were full of cheesy shots of him and Olivia being touchy-feely with each other.

If it was up to Maxen, he would show those photos to the rest of the world, but for now, he's pleased with showing it to at least one person—the very one who broke his wife's heart in the past and was now trying to take her back. The nerve of this guy, really.

Satisfied at the three creases that formed on Lance Go's forehead, he picked up the call, tapping the speaker button.

"Maaaax, is that going to take long? I want to have dinner with you," Olivia's low and jazzy voice reverberated in the room. 

"I reserved a place for us tonight, baby. Give me an hour. Okay?" Maxen scratched the skin above his eyebrows. He knew Olivia and how she had the talent to manipulate everything to bend to her will.

Deep inside, Maxen knew that was about to happen. He would definitely agree to her wishes, what with the thought of Olivia pouting as she spoke on the other end of the line was enough to catapult the three-letter word "YES" off from his mouth.

"But...It's stuffy in here, Max."

"No, you can't. Just… wait for me, baby, okay? I'll make this quick." 

Maxen smiled when he heard Olivia huff on the other end of the line. Facing Lance Go, Maxen mouthed, "Olivia" and pointed a finger in his phone, as if the former didn't read the caller ID earlier.

"Okay. Just make it quick. Pull one finger after another. That'll make him talk. Ooooh, can I do that instead? I'll take care of his fingers, then if he still won't talk, you can pull out his toes. Then if he still wouldn't, let's take turns on pulling out his teeth."

Across the room, Wyatt shivered in his spot upon hearing Olivia's suggestion. He nervously dipped his hand in his pocket, fishing out a hanky to pat the beading sweat on his forehead. 

Of course, if the husband was sinister, the wife should be too. How else would they get along if they weren't the same?

"Wahahahaha!" Maxen roared and slapped his t.h.i.g.hs. "You never cease to amaze me, baby," he said in admiration, his eyes twinkled with stars.

Everyone in the room regarded the prince with huge question marks floating above their heads. They tried to wrap their minds around the prince and his "baby's" conversation, but they were all clueless.

Just how could the prince associate himself with a lady who loved to torture people?

And who was this "baby" the prince was speaking with on the phone?

If they heard Lance Go right, he mentioned the name of the exiled heiress of Lin Prime Holdings. 

"Olivia Lin," one general uttered, stealthily holding his phone to his right as he typed Olivia's name on the browser.

Photos of Olivia popped up on the screen, the first one was the photo Secretary Gail used for their website.

It was a photo of Olivia wearing a Mona Lisa smile and her hair was still shorter, sitting above her shoulders. Her hair parted slightly off center and tucked behind her left ear, revealing a big hoop earrings dangling on it.

It was clear from the photo that her makeup was minimal, sporting a winged eyeliner and a sand nude stain on her lips.

As Maxen negotiated with his wife, the men and women behind him oohed and aahed as the general's finger swiped up the screen to look at more photos.

Wyatt joined in the group and nodded along with the rest as photos of Olivia filled the phone screen.

"So are they really married? That's big news," a lady with an air force pin on her shirt commented.

"That's big news if you tell everyone, General," Wyatt mumbled. "Whatever happens here won't reach anyone's ears once we get outside, correct?" 

Even though Wyatt was ranked below the rest of the decorated men and women in the group, they still straightened their backs as they heard the warning tone in his voice.