Nathan Moore lifted his dark pupils, and as he exhaled the smoke, a smirk appeared on his lips, giving Titus Zane a chilling sensation.
His thin lips slightly parted, and he slowly uttered a few words.
"What do you mean? You don’t understand?"
Another rhetorical question rang in Titus Zane’s ears like a person strapped to the guillotine, his head being held down, the executioner raising the large blade, yet unwilling to drop it down, continuously indicating towards the head—spreading terror and panic in her heart, subsequently becoming uncontrollable.
She hated this feeling, the feeling of being manipulated by someone.
In anger, she pushed aside Nathan Moore’s long legs blocking the front of the sofa, twisted her body, and sat down beside him, speaking with a tone and expression that were both cold.
"Nathan Moore, let’s make things clear today, stop threatening me with these ambiguous words!" It seemed he knew about her profession, yet he didn’t speak outright, and kept hinting obscurely.
"Really?" Facing Titus Zane’s cold and serious gaze, Nathan Moore appeared nonchalant, his handsome eyebrows slightly raised and his face wore an amused expression, even deliberately blowing smoke slowly towards Titus Zane.
Impatiently waving off the smoke hitting her face, Titus Zane plucked the cigarette from Nathan Moore’s fingers directly into the ashtray, clearly showing her anger.
Nathan Moore, however, laughed without anger, his thin lips curling up in a mood that was both mocking and derisive, yet this man laughed frivolously.
"Oh, getting angry out of embarrassment, huh!" he said, suddenly stretching his long arm, his distinctly articulated fingers clamped Titus Zane’s jaw, meeting her obviously angry eyes with a flippant tone.
"Some things, if not made clear, are meant to give each other a way out..."
Just as Titus Zane opened her mouth to retort, "No need, just speak your mind, don’t keep others in suspense!"
Unexpectedly, as she pursed her lush lips, that diabolically charming man leaned in close, almost two centimeters away, his gaze not on her eyes, but on her lips.
"Don’t think too highly of yourself, nor overestimate your own strength, not every man is Colt Thornton, senseless!"
As he spoke, a pain shot through her lips—it was Nathan Moore biting her lip. She gasped in pain, and he continued to speak.
"If you need money, ask me. I’m your man, it’s only rightful for a man to provide for his woman, don’t resort to crooked paths; even if rich enough to rival a nation, one should still consult their conscience when spending,"
The man’s articulated fingers pressed against Titus Zane’s chest, pointing and slowly uttered three words.
Having dealt with numerous clients, she had never felt so unsettled as now.
Fear and disbelief spread in her heart.
Thinking she had been cautious, thinking she had been low-key, yet, she still couldn’t escape Nathan Moore’s eyes.
In her panic, Titus Zane inadvertently overlooked what Nathan Moore had just mentioned... needing money, asking him, him being her man, rightfully providing for his woman...
Although a storm raged inside her, Titus Zane still forcibly curled the corners of her lips, "Nathan Moore, what are you talking about? I don’t understand?"
Nathan Moore’s fingers still clamped on Titus Zane’s jaw, his obsidian eyes slightly darkened at the woman’s calm facade, his thin lips curved up, suddenly laughing out loud, a very pleased sound.
Pressing his handsome face close again, he bit her lower lip when she was unguarded, and as he moved away, said, "Bad woman!"