As for Nathan Moore, the Casanova in his brothers’ eyes.
He doesn’t go after women or masturbate, spending all his days with Olivia Zane, a woman he can only watch but can’t have, and he seems to enjoy this endlessly.
So, his brothers gave him a fancy nickname—Casanova, a saint, and Nathan Moore, without a word, seemed to tacitly agree.
Suddenly remembering something, Felix Shaw leaned in again, with a mischievous grin full of gossip, "By the way, big bro, Olivia Zane has been with you for so many years, she can’t still be a virgin, can she?"
The guys are sworn brothers, and Felix Shaw should respect Olivia Zane as a sister-in-law.
However, perhaps because they have always referred to Titus Zane as sister-in-law, Olivia Zane has gradually been replaced in their hearts.
Or maybe it’s that bit of curiosity that’s to blame, so this disrespectful question about his brother’s wife was asked so bluntly.
Nathan Moore glanced at him with a look that was clearly reproachful, yet he said nothing.
Felix Shaw’s curiosity then grew even more rampant, shifting his bottom forward on the arm of the sofa as he continued to gossip.
"Big bro, who’s the issue, is it you or her?"
Seeing Nathan Moore look up with a puzzled expression, Felix Shaw maliciously suggested, "She’s not frigid, is she? That’s why she won’t let you touch her."
The speaker had no intention, but the listener read meaning into it.
The wine glass held in Nathan Moore’s palm tightened, and his gaze dropped and lingered on a certain spot, the narrowing of his eyes indicating his thoughts.
When he was sixteen years old, Olivia Zane was already by his side, and he had just turned twenty.
A man in his early twenties is at an impulsive age, and there were many times where, while kissing Olivia Zane, his hands roamed restlessly over her body, sometimes even going as far as to...
That’s when Olivia Zane would panic and stop him.
Yes, thinking back now, her expression at the time was one of panic.
It was panic marked with longing.
When he kissed and caressed her, she would make inviting moans, clearly moved to the point of rapid breathing, almost as if she were suffocating, yet always stopping him at the last moment from going any further.
She said, she wanted to save the best for their wedding night. Now thinking about it carefully, if it was true love, how could one hold back?
Seeing Nathan Moore lost in thought, Felix Shaw let out a teasing chuckle, finding pleasure in his successful mischief.
"Big bro, enough, stop overthinking it. There’s no such thing as a ’frigid’ woman, that’s just a fabrication from martial arts novels."
A single sentence snapped the dreamer back to reality.
Nathan Moore lifted his handsome face, looked at Felix Shaw, tugged slightly at the corner of his mouth, didn’t speak, and brought the wine to his lips for a light sip.
In the past, he had been careless, but now, it seemed necessary to test the waters...
Titus Zane realized that Wesley Foley seemed to have become colder towards her.
In the company, he was always businesslike, but now, his refined and handsome face was noticeably frosty, with an air of keeping everyone at bay.
After reporting today’s schedule, she pinned her cousin’s photo to her chest and looked at the man immersed in his work, asking, "President, do you have any other instructions?"
"Leave," he said with three words that, although devoid of emotion, were clearly dismissive.
"Yes," Titus Zane nodded slightly, and as she turned to leave, Wesley Foley called out again, "Have the secretary bring me a cup of coffee."
Turning back, Titus Zane still held the schedule in her hand, looking at the man still buried in his work, slightly dazed.
Hearing no door opening, Wesley Foley lifted his head and saw that Titus Zane was still standing there. His originally gentle eyes now held a chilled clarity, "What? Was I not clear enough?"
The calm, indifferent voice chilled Titus Zane to the core.