By now, she was always ready to disengage at any moment.
The genuine leather steering wheel cover had been clenched so tightly that a few distinct fingerprints emerged.
The immense force in his palm created a series of "squeaking" noises against the leather cover.
In the end, Joel Russo still stopped the car rationally by the roadside.
The inside of the car fell into a suffocating silence.
In such a confined space, Arabella Vanderbilt could easily sense the air around the man cooling into a frosty presence.
She was puzzled, but her facial expression remained as detached as possible.
Joel Russo turned to look at her, a few restless flames flickering in the depths of his profound eyes, his features deep and foreboding, his breath as cold as ice to the core.
However, no matter what he did, Arabella remained calm and undisturbed, watching him quietly without any fuss.
Just like when they first met, she was unlike ordinary women—indifferent and cold.
