After a barely audible sound, there was a "bang" of a door closing.
Joel Russo pursed his lips tightly, watching the subtly luxurious black sedan start up; it was calm and collected, passing by him steadily and unhurriedly, then accelerating gently away.
Such composure and calmness were more piercing than if it had angrily revved the engine and sped off.
To leave someone in such a state and still feel nothing at all—it was too cold and unfeeling.
Looking at Selvia Todd's sorry state, the rebellious air on Jackson Russo's face gradually faded.
"I remember you weren't this foolish as a child. After doing so many disgraceful things, where do you find the courage to show up in front of my brother? You think you're fooling everyone while brushing off past events with a laugh, assuming everyone else is deaf?"
As he spoke, he glanced at the car behind her, letting out a cold laugh, "You're even playing the hurt card."
Selvia Todd's eyes flickered, her face ashen.
