Blinking lights from the city skyscrapers and the dancing advertisements on billboards and projectors illuminated the cityscape while glittering falling snow blanketed the paved walkway and asphalt road. The people confined in thick fabric coats were sprawling like ants, frolicking about the night market sale, adding up to the festive mood.
Inside a Benz Maybach, Aldrick sensed that something was not right with Angel. Ever since she came back from the restroom, he noticed that she was acting a bit . . . odd.
She even made a few mistakes during the shooting, which was extremely rare. She was not like that this morning. Something must have happened.
The face of Eric Phelps appeared in his mind before he completely shook it off.
Angel couldn't fall for a guy like that.
No looks, no decent job, no car, no house.
