Sullivan's face remained calm, but his fingers gripped the cup tightly.
"Stop it... How could I possibly fall for Sullivan... I admit, I still have feelings for Owen..."
Her words were clear as day to him.
Indeed, they were from two different worlds.
He had a vast empire to inherit, and his relationship with Clara was a crucial chess piece in securing his position as the head of Hutson.
Everyone envied him for being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but no one knew that the silver spoon was all he got.
This world was full of malice, and a woman's love was nothing...
Sullivan raised his head and drained the water in the cup, a faint smile appearing on his face.
His feelings were complex: a hint of pity, a touch of bitterness, and a sense of relief.
*****
The snowstorm rage
