This man, even his taste in clothing is exactly the sa as Adrian Walyon’s—his preferred colors, materials, and even the brands.
The wardrobe is mostly filled with Armani, custom-made, in simple colors like black, white, silver, and such.
Walking into his room, looking at the decor, Sumr Sutton felt as if she’d entered Adrian Walyon’s room.
Sumr Sutton actually understood everything very clearly, but he refused to acknowledge his identity; she felt there was no need to insist on this issue.
What she liked was him, not his na.
If he says he’s Adrian Walyon, then she likes Adrian Walyon.
If he changes his na and takes on a different identity, then she’ll like his current identity.
After finishing tidying up upstairs, Sumr Sutton went downstairs.
When she entered the living room, the man was flipping through a magazine.
As Sumr wiped the coffee table beside him, she lifted her face and took a look at him, and suddenly asked, "By the way, what is your na?"
The man’s hand paused slightly as he flipped through the magazine, briefly lost in thought, then slowly lifted his face.
Her face was very close to his, with a slight smile at her lips, and her eyes sparkling.
Their proximity allowed him to feel her breath.
His gaze quietly t her eyes, staring at her for a mont before speaking indifferently, "Miss Sutton shouldn’t appear here every day. You and I belong to different worlds. After tomorrow, Miss Sutton shouldn’t co again."
His words were cold, as if he were facing a stranger.
Sumr Sutton’s expression slowly solidified, and her face froze for a few seconds.
However, she quickly returned to her natural self.
She pretended not to hear his words and continued wiping the table, "Fine, if you don’t want to say, don’t say it!"
These days, she couldn’t even count how many tis he’d given her the cold shoulder. One more wouldn’t matter.
With her head lowered, she focused on scrubbing the coffee table.
Her mood seed unaffected by his words, and as she cleaned, she even started humming.
The man on the sofa turned his head, watching her back for a long ti.
The Sumr Sutton of the past wasn’t like this; she had quite a temper and if soone disliked her this much, she’d have turned and walked away.
If people don’t need you, why care about them?
Who can’t live without whom?
However, the Sumr Sutton of these past few days seed like a different person.
In front of him, no matter how indifferent he was, how many tis he showed her a cold face, or how many tis he told her to leave, she acted as if it was all air.
This version of her left the man’s chest aching slightly.
He could see that she wasn’t unaffected by his words; she was also a proud person, how could she stand such coldness from a man?
But, so determined to uncover his identity, she didn’t want to bother with anything else...
...
After finishing cleaning the living room’s glass, Sumr Sutton began wiping the tabletop and drawers.
As she cleaned the TV stand, she happened to notice a small gap in one of the drawers.
Through the open gap, Sumr Sutton saw sothing resembling a passport.
Staring at it intently, Sumr’s eyes brightened slightly, using her body to shield the man’s view, she quickly took out the passport.
Her heart pounded rapidly, clutching the passport tightly, her heart held a sliver of hope that when she opened it, the na she would see would be Adrian Walyon.
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