Tiffany Mamet's hand, which had been clutching Gem Atkinson's arm, had to loosen, her face turning from joy to embarrassment.
"Seventeen," with a 'tsk' sound, rolled her eyes, "Shameless, just wait until I make you wish you were dead!"
Gem Atkinson draped his suit jacket over his elbow, intentionally or unintentionally preventing Tiffany Mamet from possibly pulling on him again, and looked at her coldly, asking, "Why should I answer Miss Mamet's question? Am I obliged to do so?"
"Senior, you..."
Seeing the tears that Tiffany Mamet was about to shed in her eyes, Seventeen maliciously added fuel to the fire, "Hey, Gem, what does she mean by that? Why does she want you to answer about my relationship with you? Does the daughter of the president of your nation have the right to know the privacy of anyone?"
Privacy?
Is there privacy between Seventeen and senior?
Tiffany Mamet's body couldn't stop trembling slightly.
