The man exuded a lazy yet dangerous aura, both unfamiliar and oddly familiar, like a vast net wrapping around her senses.
Serena slowed her breathing, stating plainly: "I'm just cautious. I never did you any harm."
The implication was, no matter how guarded she was, it wouldn't get in his way, nor did he have any reason to meddle.
"How is that true?" Adrian retorted confidently, "You hurt my fragile heart."
Serena: "..."
You're the mighty Shaw Crown Prince.
A master of the social scene—how could your heart be fragile?
The street was deep and silent, the moonlight pale, their eyes entwined in the sultry night air.
A gentle breeze brushed by, blowing several strands of Serena's dark hair across her fair cheek, slowly falling to her neck.
The tips of her hair danced in the wind and landed in the hollow of her neck, like a soft feather, teasing Adrian's heart, again and again.
A faint itch began to stir.
