Atlas Hallow ate leisurely, showing none of the dreadful expressions Charlotte Miller had imagined.
He didn't smash a plate on her face, nor did he spill coffee all over her. Instead, he finished his breakfast cleanly, took out a napkin, and elegantly wiped his mouth: "You don't know how to be someone else's wife, so from today, I'll teach you."
His voice remained calm, deep, and pleasant like velvet, but it seemed to have lost that touch of gentleness.
Perhaps it was because, after tearing away that mask, he began to slowly reveal his true self.
His profound features seemed sculpted from cold ice, and when the morning light shone through, it carried a faint chill.
"It's not that I don't know how, but that I don't want to," Charlotte Miller stood in the morning light, speaking clearly and unmistakably.
The housekeeper stood at a distance, shivering when he heard this sentence.
