With each word she said, Scarlett Yates’s face turned a shade uglier, and by the ti she finished her sentence, his expression was downright unpleasant.
Her brow furrowed tightly, her gaze heavy, clearly upset: "Scarlett, what do you an, you don’t want to marry anymore?"
"When I was in Fort City, I heard that Uncle Saxon’s health was improving, so there’s no need for us to marry so soon."
Honestly, their relationship was developing a bit fast.
They hadn’t been dating for long before planning to jump straight into marriage.
Scarlett was a bit frightened by this situation.
Their emotional foundation wasn’t stable; right now, they mainly saw each other’s strengths. She was truly afraid that, as others said, they would find each other wonderful while dating, but be disappointed in each other’s flaws when living together for real.
She felt that they could put off marriage for now and try dating first.
After all, this suggestion wouldn’t really be a loss for him.
He also just ntioned that he didn’t want to marry too early, so he should accept her suggestion.
"Don’t misunderstand." Seeing his darkened face, Scarlett hurriedly explained, "It’s not that I’m unwilling to marry you. We proposed marriage initially because of Uncle Saxon’s poor health, but now that he’s out of danger, there’s no rush. I think we can date first and wait for a more suitable ti before..."
Matthew Saxon released her hand: "Scarlett, I also have sothing to ask you, and I hope you’ll answer earnestly."
As he let go, Scarlett felt the warmth enveloping her disappear suddenly.
When she raised her head and saw the expression on Matthew’s face clearly, she was taken aback.
In his long, narrow phoenix eyes, his gaze was no longer gentle; a layer of chilly coldness covered his dark eyes.
He seed to have suddenly changed completely.
Was he that angry just because she suggested waiting two years to marry?
If he really wanted to get married now, of course, she would cooperate. Just as Scarlett was about to tell him, Matthew said coldly, "On Maxwell Saxon’s birthday, did you spend it with him?"
"What, what?"
His long, narrow eyes fixed on him, his voice wrapped in a chill: "You visited Al Snow Mountain together; there were reporters there at the ti, they took many photos. I saw those photos. You seed to be having a lot of fun?"
He said it so casually, as if talking about an ordinary, small matter.
After speaking, without waiting for Scarlett to respond, he curled his lips into a smile, took out his phone, scrolled to the photos, and placed it in front of her: "Is the woman in these photos you?"
One by one, snow scene photos taken in high definition appeared in front of her.
In the photos, she was dressed in red, making a snowball and throwing it at Maxwell Saxon, smiling brightly.
Opposite her, Maxwell gazed at her softly and indulgently.
Scarlett’s hand shook, and the phone fell onto the bed.
Her reaction fell into Matthew’s eyes; his face beca even colder, and with a frosty look, he pinched her chin: "Scarlett, tell , were you really with him on his birthday?"
"Maxwell told he didn’t force you; he said it’s because you wanted to repay him. Is this true?"
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