Chi Huan was led away by the man, trailing behind him like a marionette, her pretty face expressionless, and her eyes straight ahead, making her seem oddly stiff.
The elevator was private; it was just the two of them in the enclosed space.
Mo Shiqian had just pressed the button for the basement level and hadn't withdrawn his hand when he felt a warmth in his embrace. He was taken aback, looked down, and saw the woman hugging his waist, burying her head in his chest.
Her long hair fell to her waist, and her expression was hidden.
He wrapped his arms around her, bowing his head, his chin resting on the top of hers, and his other hand slowly stroked her hair.
Chi Huan was actually different from him. He had no feelings for Lawrence, never had, because he had never met this so-called father during the first twenty-five years of his life.
