The voice, though not loud, was startlingly sharp in the enveloping silence. Elizabeth's heart stuttered. Could it really be such a coincidence? Lifting her eyes, she peered through the dangling bead curtain and met Elijah's piercing, icy stare.

"Elijah…" Sandra, noticing his halted steps, turned to follow his gaze and saw Elizabeth. Her voice held a note of surprise. "Ms. Sandra?!"

Reacting impulsively, Elizabeth lifted her hand, but clumsiness caused a pot to clatter to the ground. Hot coffee splashed across her hand, burning her skin.

Soren, oblivious to the newcomer, swiftly turned to Elizabeth, grabbing a nearby scarf to dab at her scalded hand. "I'm so sorry, are you alright? Did that burn?"

"What are you doing here, Elizabeth? You should be home recuperating if you're ill, not out here, especially not with another man," Elijah interjected sharply, his voice heavy with disapproval. "You're married, Elizabeth. It's prudent to maintain a proper distance from other men."

With a swift motion, Elijah brushed past the curtain, stepping closer to pull Elizabeth's hand from Soren's grasp, positioning himself between them. His expression was stormy and unreadable. He turned his cold gaze on Soren, silently accusing him. Had he not intervened, Soren might have been uncomfortably close. Elijah, whose business never intersected with the entertainment world, didn't recognize Soren.