"Second Shaw, starting business so early?"
The voice was wrapped in teasing and amusement, with no attempt to hide its schadenfreude, very straightforward and unpretentious.
Under the dim yellow streetlights, the first thing that entered his vision was the incredibly familiar military coat, followed by Miss Scott's face, resplendent even without makeup.
Her hair danced in the early morning cold wind, she slightly arched her brows and eyes, with a smirk on her lips, her gaze was playful yet detached.
"You—"
Suddenly jolting backward, Jesse Johnson tried to get up, but since he was leaning against the wall, his back slammed into it, causing him to wince in pain, failing to get up.
Nora Scott glanced at him disdainfully.
His dyed white hair was messy, with a few bruises on his face, glaringly obvious against his pampered pale skin. His coat had several tears, covered in mud, wearing one sneaker and a thin black sock on the other foot.
