Tyrone had his legs propped up on the table, with a taunting grin, "Kiss me then, give me a kiss and I''ll


    tell you."


    The next moment, everything went ck, and Tyrone was already pressing down on him.


    Pressed beneath her, Tyrone reached up to embrace her, only to receive a sharp bite on his lip.


    Quintessa warned in passing, "Behave yourself!"


    It took a minute before Quintessa pushed off of him and stood up, "Speak!"


    Rubbing his swollen lip, Tyrone felt extremely frustrated, "Why do I feel like we''ve got our roles


    reversed?"


    He was resolute in taming Quintessa and ascend to the pinnacle of life.


    But why did he always feel like something was off track?


    Quintessa tilted his chin up with a finger, her smile wicked.


    Without a word, she let go, "I''m leaving."


    "With just you like that, how are you going to leave?"


    "How I leave is my business, none of yours," Quintessa picked up her bag, preparing to leave barefoot.


    Tyrone clenched his teeth, "Considering you''re mine, I''ll give you a lift this one time."


    Tyrone felt like it could take like forever to lead to Quintessa''s pregnancy-as his mother had said. He


    initially had physical interest in Quintessa and now, it had already be unclear.


    At least now, when he saw Quintessa again, what he thought about wasn''t just pinning her down and


    having her.


    His long-term goal was to sleep with her until naturally woke up! That required some nning.


    He nced at her feet, "You''re not wearing that shoe anymore?"


    Quintessa waved it off, "Nope. Consider it a thank-you for your mom''s soup, a gift for you." Tyrone:


    Damn it!


    "Can''t you be generous for once, Quintessa? You don''t even give me a nickel this time, just one shoe?"


    What the hell is the use of just one shoe?


    Quintessa sneered, "Be grateful. For what you''ve done, I could have killed you. Consider yourself


    lucky."


    She''d been robbed of her home and belongings, and still expected to thank him? Ha!


    Quintessa opened the door and walked out barefoot. Tyrone gritted his teeth, picked up his car keys


    and wallet, and chased after her.


    The hallway floor was polished marble, chilly to the touch. Quintessa walked on it, her steps steady as


    if she felt nothing at all.


    Suddenly, Tyrone thought of the photo, where Quintessa was alone and thinly dressed, walking on the


    dark streets at night.


    He cursed inwardly: Damn, I must owe you one.


    He walked over and hoisted Quintessa up without regard for her protests, carrying her down to the car


    park and stuffing her into his vehicle. When they left the apartment, it was already dusk. Passing by a


    shoe store, Tyrone pulled over.


    "Wait here."


    With those two words, he stepped out.


    Quintessa watched his retreating figure as he strode into the store.


    Momentster, Tyrone returned with a shoebox. He opened the car door and casually tossed the


    shoebox to Quintessa, "Put them on."


    Quintessa''s heart skipped. She opened the box and took a look, her lips twitching.


    ck round-toe ts, with a big ck flower on the front, clearly the kind worn by women in their fifties


    or sixties.


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    "These are ugly. Do you know these are for olddies?"


    Tyrone stood outside the car, his expression cold, "Yeah, I asked the salesperson. If they were for old


    ladies, I wouldn''t have bought them for you. You''re already bewitching enough; you might as well not


    wear high heels anymore, unting yourself and causing trouble."