Even though she knew he was nothing but sweet talk, Scarlett Yates couldn't help but blush, biting her lip and turning her head away with a cold snort, pretending disdain, "Young Master, save your honeyed words for your soulmate. It's a waste saying them to me."
"How could it be a waste?"
Matthew Saxon seemed indifferent to her cold sarcasm, his lips curled in a gentle and charming smile, his Peach Blossom Eyes filled with amusement, "Scarlett, aren't you my soulmate?"
He was really adept at speaking sweetly.
This must be the method he habitually used on women.
In front of women, he charmed them with sweet talk, making their hearts blossom with joy, with their affections slowly sinking.
In such sweet words, every woman would probably think she is truly the most important person in his heart, falling effortlessly into his web of love, starting to dream in the falsehoods he weaved.
This man is truly too dangerous.
