"I—"
Rosie had been looking for Charles's weaknesses from the start, wondering what this man might fear, what would make him compromise.
But she never expected his weakness to be herself.
Thinking of this, Rosie felt terribly soft-hearted. She turned around and bit the man's neck hard: "If you dare to yell at me again, I'll shave your head and make you a bald monk."
A faint red appeared in Charles's eyes, his dark pupils shimmering with a watery glint. His handsome face rarely showed such a mix of grievance and obedience. He nodded in agreement, burying his head in Rosie's neck, inhaling her fragrance.
"In the future, I won't yell at my wife anymore."
Half of his body leaned toward her in a dominant manner, and whenever Rosie thought of this man, who appeared aloof and handsome to outsiders, being a crybaby pleading with his wife for forgiveness in front of her.
Goodness, even she believed she must have saved the galaxy in her past life.
