"President Sinclair." Summer Lowell stepped aside, glaring coldly at Maxim Sinclair. "Honestly, you're not important enough for me to move away to avoid you. You don't have to see yourself as that significant."
"Oh, really? Then why did you move?"
"Does my moving have anything to do with you?"
"Of course it does, Summer. You're forcing my hand."
Not far away, inside a car parked by the roadside, the supposedly shopping but actually worried housekeeper of Maxim Sinclair watched through the window as the two tugged and pulled at each other. He asked the driver, "Was the place we went to yesterday Miss Lowell's previous residence?"
The driver nodded, "Yes, the young master has visited that place many times before, but it always seemed unpleasant, like a quarrelling couple."
The housekeeper watched from afar as Maxim once again grabbed Summer's arm and thought to himself, "Young master looks rather unreasonable, no wonder he drinks—seems to be unlucky in love."
