Adam Jones wrapped his arm around her waist with a serious look, shook his head, and said:
"Don't worry, I don't have the luxury to ruin my reputation like William Hall."
At first, Elly Campbell didn't understand what Adam meant by that. She was about to say that, with President Jones's face and fortune, even if he were eighty years old, seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girls would still be willing to run after him.
But in the next second, she remembered.
Apart from his good looks, Island Master Jones's fortune was all in her hands now. He truly didn't have the capital to ruin his old-age reputation.
Thinking this, Elly's smile deepened.
"Besides, peach blossoms aren't up to my taste. I only fancy the stunning peony flowers."
He raised his hand, touched Elly's face, and confessed.
Elly had gradually grown used to her Island Master casually breaking into declarations of love. Her skin had grown thicker under his persistent training.
