Clayton was clearly irritated by the scene unfolding before him.
"If all you're going to do is spout nonsense, then why should I even bother listening? I'm not a masochist!"
"Nonsense? How rude…" Ardy muttered, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
Clayton had had enough. He didn't want to waste another second on weirdos like this.
"Sir, we don't even know each other. So stop acting like we're close and stay out of my business. Mind your own life—and don't bother me again!"
He brushed off Ardy's hand and turned to leave.
Seeing this, Isadora couldn't hide a flicker of anxiety. Though she'd been smiling at Ardy, she didn't actually care about him. What she truly valued was wealth. And Clayton—now a "walking bank"—was slipping away.
Ardy noticed her reaction and grew anxious as well. As a suitor, he wanted to impress his goddess—whatever it took.
Once again, he grabbed Clayton's shoulder to stop him from leaving.
