Tristan Sterling glanced at Holly Sinclair, whose face was expressionless.
When he saw that she wasn't asking for his help, a flicker of displeasure crossed his eyes.
'What a stubborn little thing.'
"Vivian, did Holly really frame you?" Tristan Sterling asked. His jet-black eyes were like pools of ink, their depths unreadable.
His gaze was overwhelming.
"I…" Vivian Linton was at a loss, her eyes welling up with tears.
She was truly panicking.
In the past, he had always protected her, giving her the confidence to lie with a straight face.
But today, he was actually questioning her himself…
'What should I do?'
"You know my principles." Tristan Sterling's eyes were cold and dark, and an icy aura emanated from him.
He couldn't stand it when people played dirty tricks right under his nose.
"Tristan, I… I didn't…" Vivian Linton burst into tears, which streamed down her face.
She was trying to get away with it by playing the victim.
But the man's face only grew darker.
