It was dense, very dark.
The man steeped in pure power had a kind of blackness in his eyebrows that exuded a chilling sense of superiority over all others.
This one was raised by the Xu family.
She noticed a faint, strange scent of rose perfume on his white shirt, which mingled with the original ancient clothing fragrance of his clothes, intensely provocative, wildly stirring up improper thoughts. She wanted to ask him which den of vice he had mixed in to come back covered in the scent of roses, but she didn't ask.
Where else could he have come from? Out handling social engagements, and yet there wasn't the slightest hint of alcohol on him. If he wasn't drinking, what was he doing? Was he taken with the dinner prepared by the club's chef?
He was a solitary man; it wasn't likely—whatever it was, it should have nothing to do with her.
Oddly, she didn't know why her thoughts were in such disarray; as she got closer, the fragrance grew stronger.
