This dress...
"This color... isn't it a bit too floral?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Then you can just not wear it. Or you can find something yourself. I'm not waiting on you," she said, putting on a cold and aloof air. She tossed the floral dress onto the bed and left with her own change of clothes.
'This woman,' he thought. 'She's respecting me less and less!'
Yuri Sinclair didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He knelt by the wardrobe and rummaged through it. Sure enough, the clothes inside were either too small or... still too small.
Helpless, he glanced at the dress on the bed, picked it up, and left the room.
The bathroom was on the right side of the courtyard, its light on. The bodyguards outside had all withdrawn to a distance of over ten meters.
Yuri Sinclair walked straight over and knocked on the door.
"Ugh, who is it?" Ashley Bowen had just gotten undressed when she heard the urgent knocking.
"Me," Yuri Sinclair said, ever a man of few words.
