"My blood."
"Your blood!?..."
Fiona Schmidt was even more shocked this time, her gaze shifting between the bag and the man, while another hand firmly pushed the door, preventing him from closing it.
"You're letting her drink your blood!?" She was completely stunned, her small face wrinkled together, staring at the tiny bag in hand, her stomach churning with revulsion, and her pretty, youthful face subtly showed a hint of disgust.
Norton Abyss said nothing, quietly looking at her for a while before finally turning and walking back to the bedroom.
"Hey..." Fiona followed him inside, wanting to clarify.
The man sat on the sofa, his icy voice echoing in the pitch-black room like a ghost: "Whether she drinks it or not is up to you, it's not my problem!"
Listening to the man's cold tone, Fiona was doubtful, standing still beside the sofa, unable to see the man's face in the dim room.
