Here is the translation:
He assumed the person would leave upon hearing his words, yet the sound of footsteps did not retreat; instead, it drew even closer.
Sensing the figure stopping behind him, his refined dark brows furrowed slightly.
"Is it that you can't hear, or you don't understand..."
Neither of these options was permissible to him.
Suddenly, two cool hands landed lightly on his shoulders.
Fingers slightly curved, pressing with a measured strength—they were truly massaging his shoulders.
Joel Russo's eyes abruptly opened, coldness flashing within his gaze.
With a loud splash, his hand emerged from the hot spring, sending a wave of water as he grabbed the hands on his shoulders.
Slender, delicate, soft as if without bones.
A woman.
Jackson Russo actually arranged for a woman for him?!
The chill in his gaze deepened further, and just as he applied more strength, the faint fragrance carried by the steam slowly drifted into his nose.
