I never thought I would be moved by a man's honest and slightly vulnerable demeanor.
Back then, Samuel Grant knelt on the ground, begging desperately, almost completely losing all dignity, resembling a stray dog.
Seeing such a scene, her heart did not stir at all; instead, she felt like kicking him.
But at this moment, just because William Foster slightly showed his vulnerable side, she felt a heart-wrenching pity.
This contrast in how she treated different people was something even she couldn't understand.
In appearance, there were certain similarities, but in terms of looks, figure, or personal aura, William Foster far surpassed Samuel Grant.
Why was there such a significant difference between the two?
Perhaps because every time William Foster saw her, he was always impeccably dressed and often brought a small gift as a surprise, like the bouquet of flowers he brought today.
Thinking this way, it seemed everything became reasonable again.
