The atmosphere suddenly quieted down, and after that scare, Claire Prescott behaved herself a bit more.
With others around, she didn't dare to make any moves on Keane Lowell, keeping her hands on her lap, sitting properly in her seat.
Yet, she couldn't help but glance at him from the corner of her eye, faintly sensing a chill.
Outside, the sunset gradually dimmed and faded, turning the whole city a gloomy gray, while the skyscrapers began to light up with neon lights.
Feeling uneasy, she couldn't resist turning her head slightly, casting a wistful glance at his cold side profile.
Even though her movements were pronounced, her gaze direct, the man still paid her no attention.
His exquisite white shirt made his skin look pale and cold, his demeanor noble as if untouched by worldly woes, like an isolated being.
He sat there silently, his gaze unfocused, and it was unclear whether he was lost in thought or simply ignoring her.
She naturally understood why he was so angry.
