The woman lowered her head, her eyes filled with panic, like a little deer trapped and uneasy.
In his presence, she was always uncomfortable.
She fidgeted with her hands in front of her, listening intently to his orders, for fear of upsetting him again.
"We're out of wine!" Joe Heath shook his glass, "Go to the wine shelf and bring a bottle of Lafite over, and be quick."
"Young Master, it's very late. Do you still want to drink?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Since when is it your turn to manage my affairs? Perhaps you've been living too comfortably in my house, and are looking to experience the taste of the northwestern wind outside?"
"No, I'll go get it," Melody Xylas said, flustered.
"Wait," Melody's expression piqued his interest, his gaze landing on her pajamas, "Who taught you to wear such a seductive color to tempt people? My dad? Or my mom?"
"I bought it myself; it has nothing to do with them," Melody lowered her head.
