The room fell into an extreme silence, with hardly any of the food or soup touched. James Brown glanced at the chopsticks that had fallen to the floor, then lifted his foot and chased after her.
The elevator was already descending to the seventh floor, and without any hesitation, he dashed into the stairwell.
"Jocelyn."
Outside the towering apartment building, James Brown grabbed Jocelyn Griffin's hand, earnestly advising her, "Listen to me, do not oppose Owen Moreland; you are no match for him."
The night breeze of the dog days, mixed with a trace of dry heat, under the street light's cover, swarmed with dense mosquitoes, with sharp chirping sounds from the bugs in the flower bed.
Dressed in a long skirt, the hem fluttering with the wind, Jocelyn stood upright in the light, her gaze lifting to meet James Brown's, filled with a touch of indifference and disappointment.
"So, just because I have no backing, I deserve to be bullied?"
