His Judgement A

Isadora sat quietly on Vincent's bed as the doctor gave her a thorough check-up.

Thankfully, when Vincent was sure she could support herself, he left her to finish washing up alone. After which she put on a fresh change of clothes, prepared by a maid.

As usual, Vincent sat at his desk buried in work. When it came to his diligence in running the Mafia, nothing broke his stride. Every free second was put to good use.

At this time the morning sun was already up and its warm rays streamed through the windows, casting over a side of Vincent's masked face.

Isadora was attracted to this picturesque sight. Subconsciously, she could see through his mask, picturing his handsome face with a serious expression.

Although it was dark at the time, a clear image of Vincent's maskless face had been ingrained into her mind. She didn't think she would be able to forget the languid and desolate look in his eyes.

Such a helpless expression caught her off guard. She had never expected it from a reputable