The man was dressed relatively casually.
Instead of the formal suits he had used to wear, he now donned a simple white shirt with black dress pants. Tall and upright, he resembled a lone cedar tree in the mountains, resplendent and peerless. A chilly aura surrounded him, his brows and eyes composed yet indifferent, as if he was forever void of emotions, vividly alive yet seemingly untouched by ripples of life.
This made him seem perpetually out of reach to anyone.
Yvonne Finley scrutinized him, and it was only now that she truly noticed how much her uncle had changed.
The man standing before her now felt different from the one who was always looking out for her in the past.
Wilson Finley didn't even spare her a glance, no one knew if it was done intentionally or not. Instead, he turned his body away from her, staring down at Laura Finley, whose tear-streaked face was flushed red from crying, uttering in a chillingly calm voice: "Laura Finley, my patience only goes so far."
