The European-style large bed, the cloud-like quilt covered with petals, the ambiguous dim yellow light.
A big hand restlessly slid into her clothes.
"Can you not come?" Melody Thorne raised her head, genuinely worried that one day she would die in bed.
"Just once," Jared Quinn began to coax her, slowly pressing her down, his big hand roaming, "I promise just once."
…
Skyscrapers, the evening breeze gently blowing, two men drinking on the rooftop, equally concealing deep emotions.
"Didn't expect you'd come to me," Hans Montrose slightly raised his wine glass, the white fiery liquid rolling down his Adam's apple.
The man opposite him was in a white suit, his features deep and jade-like, a smile playing at his lips, "Now you and I are on the same side, aren't we?"
Hans Montrose clutched his wine glass, his flirtatious peach-blossom eyes flickering with a cold glint, "Whether friend or foe is not just words."
