Riley apologized softly. "I'm sorry, Brother. It's my fault. Mom only worries I might suffer grievances, that's why she acts like this. Please don't take it to heart."
Hunter remained as calm as ever. "Mm, I don't mind."
Madam Nelson's expression shifted again and again. In her mind, Hunter was just an adopted child. Even if the Nelson Family's so-called adoption had been nothing but careful calculation, wasn't Hunter, as an adoptee, supposed to be endlessly grateful to them?
Leaning on her status as Hunter's adoptive mother, she clearly wanted to say more—until Riley suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Mom, we shouldn't act this way. Brother already works so hard managing the company. You don't understand business. Please, don't interfere."
Madam Nelson's throat bobbed, and she squeezed out a line: "It's my fault. Forget the perfume."
The sales clerk finally let out a long sigh of relief and handed the gift bag with the perfume to Hunter.
