"Yes."
Two voices rang out simultaneously.
Matthew Saxon pinched Scarlett Yates’s palm, giving her a gentle look. Yet, beneath that surface gentleness was an unmistakable warning.
This ti, even George was so shocked his eyes nearly fell out.
What was going on with the Young Master Saxon? How could he publicly admit Scarlett Yates was his girlfriend?
Didn’t he loathe Scarlett Yates to the utmost, fearing any association with her?
If that night with the Dales Family, he said sothing misleading out of displeasure with Rosie Wood’s actions, then what’s his motive now?
George had been with Matthew Saxon for many years and knew very well the heavy weight of the term girlfriend.
There were many won around the Young Master Saxon, changing them like a revolving door, but those were rely amusents, companions—or to put it bluntly—bed partners.
But a woman he acknowledge as his girlfriend, that hadn’t happened until now.
May Denton’s expression was rich, alternating between pale, green, and purple hues, "Such an important matter, why have you never ntioned it before?"
Matthew Saxon didn’t offer much explanation, simply said, "Aunt Denton, you should save your energy to mind my big brother’s business. As for , when Dad returns, I’ll explain everything clearly to him."
Having said that, as if not seeing May Denton’s face turn from purple to black, he turned his head and pinched Scarlett Yates’s palm once more, naturally requesting, "I’m tired, accompany upstairs."
--
Inside the monotonous room with only black and white colors, Matthew Saxon sprawled ssily on the soft sofa, closing his eyes for a nap.
He seed tired, lying there motionless, in the flickering light. It seed as if the shimr spilled onto his chiseled face, and ti appeared to halt, solidifying into an eye-catching painting.
But this mont of beauty was fleeting.
George exited the room, gently closing the door.
Enduring for so long, Scarlett Yates punched the air furiously, aiming her fists near his handso face and bit her teeth to growl, "Matthew Saxon, clarify your words, who’s your girlfriend?"
The events from that night with the Dales Family had already cause her so much trouble.
Yet this ti, he was even more excessive, more infuriating!
The swinging fist stopped less than a centiter from his irritatingly handso face when his tightly shut eyes gradually opened.
His slender eyes slightly raised, the gaze faintly looking at her, "You have an objection?"
His laid-back tone carried not a hint of apology, instead it had a trace of dissatisfaction.
Scarlett Yates took a deep breath, even the best temper was on the verge of collapse.
He did whatever he pleased, ignoring others’ feelings. Lightly tossing out a sentence, unconcerned with its consequences.
Not even half a word of explanation, the attitude itself was vile.
How could there be such a detestable and exasperating person in the world.
"Of course I have objections!" Scarlett Yates waved her fist again, her dark eyes glaring angrily at him, "Young Master Saxon, since you keep worrying that I covet the Saxon family’s Young Madam position, then why did you say such things to Madam Saxon just now?"
Outside the window stood a few sycamore trees, their dense branches and leaves filtering the sunlight into strands that slanted into the corner where Matthew Saxon lay.
In his deep, rich brows and eyes were specks of light, seemingly imbued with the afternoon sun’s languor, his eyes half-opened, lazily gazing at her, "I was helping you. If you’re not grateful, forget it; your attitude towards your benefactor is so vile."
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