A familiar scene.
Perhaps overwhelmed with grief, Molly Walker cried herself into a faint. Considering her fragile body, Jeremy Norman didn't hesitate to pick her up.
Jeremy suddenly felt a cold gaze upon him.
He furrowed his brow, looking in the direction of the gaze. Even though he was prepared for it, his pupils still contracted slightly.
The man stood tall under a large tree. His overwhelming presence could not be concealed.
As a man himself, Jeremy sometimes couldn't help but feel inferior in the face of Michael Gallagher's handsomeness.
When their eyes met, Jeremy inexplicably smiled.
His soft lips moved slightly, uttering a few words.
Not far away, Michael Gallagher's eyes were terrifyingly deep.
Jeremy had said: too late.
Suppressing the murderous intent within him, Michael's feet felt as if they were nailed to the ground, watching helplessly as Jeremy left.
"Young Master, shall we... not follow?" a young man beside him mustered the courage to ask.
