"Heh..." Evan Yates shook his head with a cold laugh. "It's true you can know a person's face but not their heart. If you hadn't told me all this, I would've actually thought he was some kind of deeply devoted, lovesick fool."
"A lovesick fool?" Felix Preston's eyes narrowed, filled with scorn. "Him? He doesn't deserve the title."
"Ugh..." Evan Yates sighed, growing more speechless the more he thought about it. "Whenever his late wife is mentioned, George Sutton's eyes well up with tears. The way he wipes his eyes and repents... he's a better actor than the pros."
"If you ask me, he chose the wrong path in life. He shouldn't have gone into business. He should've joined The Southern Opera Troupe to perform."
Evan Yates really had it in for George Sutton. They had already driven two kilometers, and he was still cursing indignantly.
Felix Preston took off his glasses and began to methodically clean the lenses amidst the tirade.
