Angela Shaw trembled with fear, rooted to the spot. She hadn't made the soup—she didn't even know how. Just as Miles Xavier had said, it was from the Grand Hall of Flavors.
She was amazed by his palate. 'How could he identify the flavor so precisely?'
"President Xavier, I did make this soup…"
"Still lying? Angela Shaw, tell me, what's your real motive for going through all this trouble?" His tone turned colder, and his sharp words left Angela too scared to speak.
"President Xavier… I don't have any motive. I just saw you were injured and wanted to show my concern. After all, you're my future brother-in-law… aren't you?" Angela Shaw spoke cautiously, lowering her head, afraid to look at Miles Xavier's face.
"Brother-in-law? No motive? You'd better learn your place. You're nothing more than a common servant in the Xavier family. These are things for Joan to do. I don't need you fawning over me. Got it?"
"I… I got it…" At that moment, Angela Shaw's face burned with humiliation.
