He was lowering his head, pressing on her ankle with a serious expression. His actions weren't skillful; the slender fingers grasping her ankle were full of awkwardness and unnaturalness.
On that cold and stern face, there was now an uncommon softness, especially under the warm lighting in the room, making the man in front of her exude a strange warmth all over.
Summer Shawcross blinked, almost thinking she had seen wrong.
For a moment, she even had the urge to throw herself into his arms.
For some reason, her nose suddenly felt a bit sour.
In over twenty years, the only people who treated her like this, besides her father and brother, was Noah Drexler.
In her past life, she was too selfish and willful; she never gave him a decent look, nor did she ever seriously feel the heart of this man.
She never realized that this man she once thought to be cold-blooded and twisted could also be so gentle and warm.
