And actually laid a hand on him, isn't this like pulling a tiger's whiskers?
Miles Hughes no longer saw Maeve Lane as a delicate girl in need of protection. The things she did often left him to "clean up the mess," so he was quite clear about the kind of person Maeve was.
Not to mention the young master of his family, even before entering the circle, those old folks in the Fairchild Family would avoid him at the mention of his name.
Though the young master seldom handles family affairs now, Miles knows that's just because he disdains to involve himself.
He is the perfect heir.
Rational, stern, and composed, like a god of death in the business world.
Julian Fairchild walked with Maeve Lane for a while, but she soon broke free from him.
She glanced up at Julian, "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
After saying this, the man put the hand that had been holding Maeve into his pocket, his expression unclear, "Miles."
"Yes, sir."
"Let's go."
"Yes, sir."
