Summer Shawcross mumbled indistinctly, then lowered her head again and started drinking the chicken soup in the thermos in anger.
Since he doesn't trust her, no matter how much she does, he won't trust her anymore, so she might as well save the effort!
Looking at her angry appearance, the man couldn't help but smile, and an expression of helplessness crossed his originally cold face.
Just as she lowered her head, angrily drinking her chicken soup, his slender fingers suddenly lifted her face.
Summer paused, holding a mouthful of chicken soup, her oily little mouth pouting as she glared at him angrily.
Looking at her angry little look, a hint of warmth passed through the man's eyes, his gaze resting on her crystal-clear lips.
The next second, the man's disdainful voice rang out.
"Summer Shawcross, how old are you? Drinking something and getting it all over your mouth?"
When his voice sounded, Summer was stunned, her expression showing even more dissatisfaction.
