Soone whistled, "Wow, truly a delicate flower, looking so pitiful."
Easton noticed the crowd showing quite so interest in Softy, and proudly raised an eyebrow, "Of course, anyone brought by Easton is no ordinary woman."
Then he showed her off like a treasure to Matthew Saxon, who had been sitting silently in the corner, "Matthew, take a look. If you find her pleasing, she’s yours tonight."
Matthew slowly lifted his head.
The girl’s pure and captivating face was undeniably beautiful, exuding a fresh and refined aura, evoking thoughts of many pure and lovely things.
She looked like every man’s fantasy of a perfect first love, pure yet extrely beautiful.
Matthew glanced indifferently and lowered his eyes, seemingly uninterested.
Easton was taken aback, surprised, "No way, this kind of beauty doesn’t interest you?"
The others hurried to chi in, "If you’re not interested, then we’ll..."
"Shoo, shoo, don’t even think about it. This is prepared for Matthew," Easton insisted, and then said to Softy, "Go over there and accompany the Young Master for a few drinks. As long as you can get him to drink one cup, this money is yours."
He pulled out a thick wad of cash from his bag and pressed it under a glass.
Softy’s eyes lit up at the sight of the money.
She was very obedient, walking quietly over to the corner where Matthew was seated.
She poured a glass of wine, knelt by Matthew’s feet, raised her hands to offer it to him, and raised her delicate, pretty face, saying softly, "Young Master, may Softy serve you?"
The girl’s eyes were dark and soft, like two black pearls.
Matthew was montarily stunned.
He frowned slightly, said nothing, and didn’t take the wine from her hands, but just silently stared at her.
As ti passed, Softy’s arms began to ache, and a fine sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead.
She bit her lip, enduring the pain, her hands still held high, gazing at Matthew with the most gentle and submissive eyes, her lips maintaining a gentle and charming curve.
The others found this scene interesting and watched the two with a keen interest, eager to see what would happen.
As the ache in her hand beca almost unbearable, the hand holding the wine glass started to tremble. She bit her lip again, looking pitifully at Matthew, "Young Master..."
This plea was truly soft to the core.
Matthew’s long pheonix eyes narrowed, he smiled and took the wine from her hands.
Softy’s eyes showed delight.
The others laughed uproariously, "Matthew, no matter how hard your heart is, you can’t resist such a soft beauty."
Matthew said nothing, lightly swirling the wine in his glass, "Softy?"
This was his first ti speaking tonight.
Softy felt that his voice was deep and husky, inexplicably charming, almost soul-stirring.
Under Matthew’s gaze, her face gradually reddened, "Yes, Young Master."
Even though she knew she would inevitably beco playthings for these wealthy young masters upon arriving here, the mont she t Matthew, Softy’s heart raced, and being watched by him, she felt as if she had been shocked.
So this was the fad Young Master of the Saxon Family. Softy’s first impression was how extraordinarily handso he was.
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