Ever since a moment ago, he had been in a state of agitation, but she truly didn't understand what was making him so irritable or angry.
When she called out to him, the man's eagle-like eyes narrowed, and his husky voice seemed to squeeze through clenched teeth, "Do you seriously not know what I'm angry about, or are you pretending not to know?"
Without a second thought, Enna Clark said, "Of course I really don't know." If she knew, why would she even ask him? It was precisely because she didn't know that she asked.
"So, damn it, you really don't know what's got me so angry?" Baron Lawrence ground his teeth, his gaze fierce as if he wanted to swallow her whole, fixated on her as though she had committed a grave misdeed, "Enna Clark, do you really not know what I'm angry about?"
She was going to leave him for a month, a whole month, 31 days, 744 hours, 44640 minutes, 27.84 million seconds... Didn't she feel anything at all?