Wei Anning felt a sense of unease under his gaze and subconsciously shifted her bottom, trying to move a bit further away from him. But immediately, a large hand wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her closer.
In an instant, her breath was dominated by his fresh, masculine scent.
A man's voice filled with ease rang above her head, "Why not talk about it, wife? I'm quite curious to know as well."
Wei Anning shivered, feeling that the man at this moment was pretending to be a pig to eat a tiger. She trembled and her gaze fell on Miss Song's pretty face across from her, filled with both envy and jealousy; a sense of secret pleasure washed over Wei Anning.
"What's there to talk about? It's nothing compared to the mutual affection between you and Miss Song."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she tasted the sourness of her tone, so strong it could almost kill her. Her teeth ached—why hadn't she been able to hold back?
