Arabella Vanderbilt had nothing to say.
Why did he choose her of all people?
He said that only she was a match for him!
She wanted to reject this forthright pursuit that had been so direct from the beginning.
He said he rejected her rejection.
All decisions were in his hands, making her passive to an excessive degree everywhere.
The pride deep in her bones made her subconsciously resist.
Yet in front of Joel Russo, she always felt a profound sense of powerlessness.
She gathered her hair, took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily.
"Why the sigh? What's bothering you?"
Arabella looked at him.
He stood quietly in front of her, his expensive white shirt highlighting his handsome and perfect contours, tall and imposing.
She seemed to sense that in front of her, he was deliberately restraining his posture.
Because those dark, long eyebrows of his had been shaped by a perpetual sharpness.
This man, if she wasn't wrong, was actually very cold-hearted inside.