Brandan leaned back on the sofa chair, his eyes dark and brooding, as he watched Iris Harris's silent demeanor. He took out a cigarette from his pocket.
The waitress diligently lit it for him, whispering, "Mr. Hyde, would you like anything else?"
Brandan originally wanted to say no, but then he thought that Iris might not have had dinner, so he pursed his lips and ordered a steak.
Iris was quiet for a long while before she looked up at him. Her gaze fell on Brandan's face, a trace of confusion passing through. Moments later, she got up and said to Brandan, "I'm leaving."
"Sit down."
The man said coldly.
"..."
"Feeling wronged?"
Brandan looked at her despondent expression and let out a cold sneer.
Iris stood there without moving.
Wronged?
Of course, wronged.
She was in danger, yet the person she cared about was constantly setting obstacles for her, leaving her no peace.
"You still have the nerve to feel wronged in front of me."
