Maya Monroe isn't a germaphobe, but watching her brand-new white shoes gradually get stained black wasn't exactly pleasant.
At the same time, a blast of cold wind blew down her neck.
Maya increasingly regretted not staying in the hotel like a sitting duck.
Vincent Summers followed closely behind, suddenly letting out a wail, "Maya, you splashed dirty water all over my shoes! I've spent too much of my salary this month; I can't afford another pair!"
Maya shivered from the cold, "Aren't you a rich second generation?"
"I… rich second generation or not, it doesn't matter. My dad, who's stingy to a fault, expects me to start from scratch after learning all the skills! Have you ever seen a rich kid living so miserably?"
Vincent thought for a moment, "Actually, I'm a fifth-generation rich kid…"
Habitual underdog Maya casually sighed, "That's really nice."
Ian Rowe suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Maya asked, "What's wrong?"
