The man's ash-gray shirt was tucked into his trousers, and his tall stature was like jade.
The ceiling lights cast their glow upon him, clearly outlining his features. His cold, deep presence was inescapable, and his ink-black eyes, calm and watching, carried a subtle oppressive aura.
It gave off a feeling of keeping strangers at a distance, pushing her far away.
Claire Prescott steadied herself.
For some unknown reason, she felt hesitant to approach him.
She took a step, then suddenly ran towards him, wrapping her arms around his firm waist and leaning on his shoulder.
Keane Lowell's gaze shifted away from Ethan Lancaster and he looked down at the person in his arms.
He raised his hand to embrace Claire Prescott's delicate and slender frame, his eyes softening unconsciously.
"What brings you here?" he asked gently.
Claire Prescott remained silent, simply holding onto him, soaking in his presence.
