"Isn’t that obvious? Didn’t you see how awful Young Master’s face looked?"

"Then tell me, why are they arguing? Wasn’t he seen today taking her to the movies and even had some street food, unusually pampering her? Why are they fighting now?"

"What’s so strange about that? The Young Master has spoiled many women before; he pampers them today and dumps them tomorrow. Whether he pampers or not depends on his mood."

"But the Young Master has never accompanied any woman to the movies before, and street food is something he’d never touch. I think the Young Master feels differently about Miss Yates."

"Even if the Young Master really likes her, so what? Whether she can smoothly marry into the Saxon Family is still uncertain. Do you think Old Master Douglas is dead? He values lineage the most. How many years has it been since he last came to the Saxon Family? He specially rushed over this time. Do you really think he’s here to attend the Young Master’s wedding? Once the old man makes a move, this marriage might fall through. Just wait and see."

Downstairs, a group of maids gathered, chattering away, secretly hoping that Matthew Saxon and Scarlett Yates would break up. They even placed bets on whether they would end things or not.

Upstairs, Maxwell Saxon hadn’t said a word since getting out of the car, and his footsteps didn’t pause even for a moment until he entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him, finally behaving like a normal person.

He took off his coat and ripped off his tie, throwing them casually onto the sofa.

Then he turned around, his eyes, devoid of warmth, swept over Scarlett Yates’s face like a searchlight.

His gaze wasn’t particularly cold, but Scarlett felt a tightening in her chest as if frozen by his stare, causing her to stop in her tracks.

"Wh-what’s wrong?" She took a deep breath, suppressing her unease and panic, forcing a smile onto her lips.

Matthew Saxon fixed his gaze on her, and after a few seconds, his thin lips curled into a smile, his tone was so light that no emotions could be discerned from it: "Nothing. I was wondering whether that lustful mosquito is still hiding in the room. Should I find it now or mercifully let it be? Considering how cold it is, surviving must not be easy for it. Better a live coward than a dead hero, what do you think?"

His eyes were as sharp as daggers, and the smile at the corner of his lips seemed to be a mocking arc.

In psychological tactics, Scarlett Yates couldn’t match Matthew Saxon.

After Matthew Saxon said this, her face immediately changed color.

Matthew Saxon watched for a while as her face turned pale, then he curved his lips, his smile deepening: "But the thought that it dared to touch my woman makes me want to shred it to pieces immediately. Scarlett, what do you think I should do?"

"Should I swat the mosquito to death or let it linger on?"

Standing there with hands and feet cold, the smile on Scarlett Yates’s lips was already forced, now it was even more strained. She pulled at her lips, her smile stiff: "It’s just... just a mosquito, why make it sound so terrifying."

"Terrifying? You shouldn’t underestimate such a creature. Though as insignificant as ants, they are much bolder, daring to suck human blood. What is it they wouldn’t dare do?"