She’s quite bold; Atlas Hallow always knew that. Now she dares to talk back to him, implying that even if President Hallow had business, he need not look for her. Has he been too gentle with her, so she’s not afraid of him at all?
The situation today is a bit special. It’s clear she’s not in a good mood, so he didn’t tease her. If she wants to oversee the film shooting, let her go. After all, it’s all within his office building; she can’t escape.
What Atlas Hallow hadn’t realized himself was that he’d already fallen into a strange loop, and was sinking deeper, subconsciously wanting to keep Charlotte Miller within his control, not just physically but ntally too.
When Atlas loosened his grip, Charlotte hurriedly dashed out, as if escaping from a disaster.
"Slow down, I’m not going to eat you..." The low voice of the man behind her sounded, making Charlotte quicken her pace. Yet, her flustered steps seed sowhat adorably clumsy in his eyes.
It was only in the elevator that she finally breathed a sigh of relief. Leaving the president’s office, once the air was no longer filled with his scent, it felt like entering a safe zone.
Atlas Hallow, even his breath was dangerous.
In the executive dining room, black cables crisscrossed on the floor, setting up varying heights of lighting equipnt for film shooting, the reflectors dazzling people’s eyes with their glare.
Perhaps due to the proclaid big production, quite a few people had co, making Charlotte frown slightly.
They even allowed reporters to visit; did Luna really treat the Hallow Clan’s office building as the Miller Family’s?
Although Atlas agreed to lend them the venue for three days for shooting, it was limited to shooting only. Issuing work passes for reporter interviews seed a bit too much.
She hadn’t seen Luna yet; why wasn’t she here? Did she not co?
A man not far away was surrounded like a moon amidst stars, and through the crowd, his appearance looked almost identical to how he appeared on TV.
Due to Luna, she had so curiosity about the man now dating her sister. In her eyes, Jack Smith was just a boy.
Tall, thin, unusually delicate, with upturned eyebrows and beautiful eyes, it seed a pity for such features to be on a man’s face.
In an instant, Charlotte sowhat understood why Luna liked this boy; he indeed had striking features, and his smile was warm yet with a tinge of allure.
He smiled at her, his brows and eyes unfolding, like a gentle spring breeze...
Jack Smith recognized Charlotte with just one glance.
Luna ntioned she had a younger sister. He jokingly asked Luna who was prettier, and Luna confidently told him, "Of course, I’m prettier."
Unexpectedly, a confident and flamboyant woman like Luna would have a day where she lied.
Her sister was clearly much more beautiful than her, although calling it re beauty might not be accurate.
Charlotte’s allure lay in her pure feminine charm that exuded from every part of her. This charm wasn’t asured by cup size or waist thinness—those were too commonplace. When Charlotte walked in from the door, she was the type to catch one’s eye and leave them astonished.
With ethereal grace and gentle allure, her beauty was entirely natural.
"Hello, I’m Jack Smith..." Jack stood in front of her, blocking the light, his nails neatly trimd, his fingers long and beautifully shaped.
He played musical instrunts skillfully, perhaps benefiting from these beautiful hands.
"I’m Charlotte Miller." Out of courtesy, Charlotte extended her hand. Currently, she was sowhat at odds with Luna. To resolve matters like film investnt and dividends, her only way might be through this Jack Smith.
In his palm, her hand was as delicate as cream and as soft as boneless, carrying a slight coolness that triggered an impulse to hold it carefully and gently warm it.
Finally, he heard her voice face-to-face. He had heard such a voice before—clear as spring water trickling slowly...
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