"If I just run away like this, I'm afraid Justin Huxley will pin all the blame on me," Summer Lowell didn't deliberately avoid his gaze like before. Instead, she leaned in, "What about you, what are you expecting?"
The two stood in a silent standoff for a long time before Maxim Sinclair broke the silence: "What I'm expecting... you know best. Summer, you're far more ruthless than I imagined."
"That means you don't know me well enough," Summer pushed away the hand squeezing her shoulder, "You should have let me go earlier. If you'd done that, there wouldn't be such a big loss now."
"As to who lost more, it's too early to conclude that," Maxim's expression remained calm, "But thanks to you, I'll have a lot of free time coming up. I've told the company that I'll be staying at home during this time, to spend some good time communicating with you."
Summer's face darkened: "It's come to this, and you still don't intend to let me go?"
