"That's a good point, big brother."
Matthew Saxon curled his lips and replied nonchalantly, "Then what else is there to worry about, big brother? What's yours will always be yours; no one can take it away. If it's not yours, keeping it tied to you day and night won't help."
"Really?"
Maxwell Saxon glanced out the window, his handsome and captivating profile almost perfect. Dressed in a clean white shirt without any unnecessary embellishments, he exuded an innate nobility that was hard to conceal.
Even his casual sitting posture resembled that of an aristocratic gentleman, making it hard not to be captivated by him.
However, as Scarlett Yates looked at his flawless face, she inexplicably felt a twinge of fear.
What was she afraid of?
She didn't know herself, only felt that an unusually cold aura suddenly emanated from Maxwell Saxon.
So cold that it made her feel uneasy.
Fortunately, Maxwell Saxon quickly returned to his usual demeanor, and the chilling aura faded away.
