Chapitre 89: A story for a story

YIREN'S POV

"Hey, bunny, come here..."

I'm crying, really crying, and I can't help it. Because no one—no one—has ever treated me like this before. This man, who's filthy rich, who could snap his fingers and have the world at his feet, is the most genuine, humble, sensible, mannerly, down-to-earth person I've ever known. He's not like those pretentious types who think their money gives them a pass on decency.

And the worst, the absolute worst part? He wears his heart on his sleeve, fearlessly. Right now, he's got me sitting on his lap, his hand gently moving up and down my back, coaxing me back to calm. He doesn't ask why I'm crying, doesn't bombard me with questions like, "Is it that time of the month?" or "What's wrong with you always?, Why you are so emotional?" No, he just… knows I need a moment, and he's giving me that.