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Ivy’s expression shifted, quickly masking her previous boldness.
“Lyndon.”
“Miss Ivy Larson, I hardly know you. Please address me as Mr. Fernandez.”
Lyndon released Ivy’s wrist and uttered in a frigid tone.
Ivy extended her hand to grasp his, her expression one of distress.
“Lyndon, I truly have feelings for you, so I…”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtLyndon’s icy gaze met hers, the chill in his eyes causing Ivy’s hand to freeze midair. Eventually, she
pulled back her hand in an awkward motion.
“Miss Ivy Larson, my family holds a distinguished status. My elders have always emphasized the
importance of marrying a virtuous wife.
Thus, I cannot consider a woman whose values and thoughts are questionable. I advise you to keep
your distance!”
Lyndon’s ruthless sarcasm and obvious contempt turned Ivy into an embarrassment.
She stamped her feet and fled, crying in shame.
A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y
Lyndon cast a glance at Tilda, the coldness on his face fading.
Seeing the glasses on the ground, he bent down to pick them up.
Tilda happened to pick it up at the same time, their hands accidentally touching.
The contact gave Lyndon pause, and he turned his head to look at her.
Tilda’s face shifted slightly. She withdrew her hand, taking a step back.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmLyndon took the glasses and handed them to her, only to find Tilda wiping her fingers with tissue.
He was dumbfounded.
She was wiping right where his fingers had just touched.
Lyndon looked at her, holding out her glasses.
“Miss Larson, here you go.”
Tilda crumpled the tissue in her hand, her lips pressed in a stiff line. She took the glasses from Lyndon
and put them on, then turned to leave without a word.
“Wait a minute.” Lyndon stopped her.
She paused but did not turn around.
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