He stood at a distance, watching her indifferently.
His demeanor was one of cold detachment.
So beautiful, like a doll made of snow, even the pupils of her eyes exuded an icy chill.
The intimacy, the gentleness, the feigned sincerity had all faded away; his gaze on her finally returned to what it initially should have been—
She, a creature as insignificant and vulnerable as an ant, truly could not expect him to have an ounce of pity for her.
Her identity also reverted to its original position—because of this face, she became a tool for him to squander his desires.
In truth, if not for those few months they encountered each other, if they were just strangers, because of this face resembling Ellen Candi, she might still have ended up with such a fate.
