Elly Campbell hadn't finished speaking when Adam Jones lightly scratched her waist, causing her to let out an involuntary yelp of surprise.
"If you dare run off with him, I'll break your legs," he warned.
"You're so fierce."
Elly Campbell bit her lower lip, her mouth puckered in a pitiful expression like a one-year-old girl scolded by her dad.
Adam Jones rarely saw his usually serious and cool wife acting cutely in front of him. His thin lips tightly pressed, he suppressed the laugh in his heart and put on a stern face, saying:
"Am I not handsome? Don't I have broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs? Am I not rich?"
His voice was deep, and his hand gently scratched Elly Campbell's waist again.
Elly Campbell's waist was very sensitive. Being scratched like that, she instinctively twisted and dodged, still unyielding as she said:
"I'm tired of seeing it."
"Tired of it?"
Adam Jones narrowed his eyes, the dangerous aura in them suddenly thickening.
