Our Mr. Smith?
Sienna Harrison's mind went blank, and she looked up at the person coming her way, her eyes widening in shock. About three meters away was a couple in their 50s, arm in arm, walking towards her. The man was dressed in light-colored traditional clothes and wore glasses over his nose, his appearance refined and elegant; he looked familiar somehow. The woman wore an elegant, ink-colored dress, and although she was older, her figure was still enchanting. It was apparent that she had taken good care of herself. Behind her, several bodyguards dutifully carried bags, clearly indicating that she was a high-ranking noblewoman of a wealthy family.
Sienna felt uneasy, an ominous feeling creeping into her heart…
"How come you're not talking since we came over?"
The elegant old lady looked at the cameras and video recorders pointed at them, yet no one spoke up. "I just got a message saying there's a bitch fight going on here. What, is it over now that I'm here?"
Sienna: "..."
