At this moment, Fenton Stuart loosened his grip slightly, but he did not release the person in his arms.
Realizing he had no intention of letting go, Belinda Howard grew even more baffled.
Moreover, judging by his appearance, it seemed he'd consumed quite a bit of wine.
"Brother Luke, what's wrong with you?" Ultimately, she pushed him away forcefully.
Under the pale moonlight, she caught sight of the pain in his pupils and the faint glimmer of moistness in his eyes.
She froze, unable to understand what had happened to him.
Fenton Stuart's line of sight slowly moved to her right arm, then he spoke slowly, carrying an undertone of sorrow.
"Are you... no longer able to play the violin?"
Hearing this, Belinda Howard froze again, staring at the man in front of her.
How did he know about this?
She lowered her eyelid in silent melancholy, saying nothing.
"Do you hate me?" He gazed at her, his expression laced with pain.
