Daisy Ginger kept her head down but could still feel the man's gaze on her.
He seemed to be smiling, yet not quite, laced with a certain indifferent chill, like a cold-blooded creature slowly gliding over its scales, making her fingertips go cold.
"Daisy, you are a smart woman," after a moment, as if deliberately giving her time to prepare mentally, he waited a minute before speaking again, "some things can be done, some things cannot, I shouldn't have to explain that to you."
Daisy lifted her head, her gaze landing squarely on Robert Stephens' face, and asked calmly, "Then what is it that I cannot do, Mr. Stephens, can you enlighten me?"
Robert leaned back on the sofa, with a hint of a gentle smile on his lips, yet his pitch-black eyes staring at her, deep and cold, being stared at by those eyes felt as if she was already as good as dead.
Daisy clenched her hands, refusing to show weakness.
