A slightly defiant voice said, "But the Young Master has never brought Miss Green here before."
"The Young Master is here, everyone stop talking."
The group quickly dispersed and uniformly turned to respectfully greet the approaching person, "Young Master."
Maxwell Saxon stepped outside the door, "Are you ready?"
"Yes, Young Master."
He nodded, pushed open the half-closed door, and walked in.
Scarlett Yates had already changed her clothes, into a clean white nightgown, and lay on the bed with a thin blanket.
There was only a table lamp lit in the room, and in the soft light, she was curled up like a baby, showing half of her fair and graceful cheek.
Maxwell Saxon walked to the bedside.
She was in deep sleep, her cheeks as rosy as apples, her glossy black hair messy on the pillow like soft satin, making one want to touch it.
