Once Joseph and the crowd scurried away, only Lucian and Roxanne were left in the corridor.
Roxanne's wrist was still in Lucian's grip.
Realizing that he did not seem to be releasing her any time soon, Roxanne was not annoyed at all. She merely said in a calm voice, “Everyone's gone. You can let go of me now, Mr. Farwell. I won't run away.”
Lucian stared at her for a few seconds before slowly relaxing his grip.
Roxanne's eyebrows furrowed as she rubbed her aching wrist. She took two steps backward and looked up at Lucian. “Is there anything else, Mr. Farwell?”
Lucian frowned upon hearing that.
He had saved her, but she did not even thank him for it. Instead, she had asked him if there was anything else.
“I've helped you out again, and this is your attitude toward me?” Lucian's tone was laced with coldness.
Roxanne's lips curled mockingly. “Help? If you really wanted to help me, you wouldn't have said those words to Joseph. You're only using me for your own benefit. There's no need to sugarcoat your actions.”
The air around them seemed to still at the tension between them.
Lucian's eyes were burning with rage. However, when he recalled the words he had spoken on impulse, he could not say anything to justify himself.
After being plunged into silence for a while, Roxanne took his lack of response as a silent agreement. The mockery on her face became more evident as she nodded at him. “Seems like you have had your fun, Mr.
Farwell. I think I should leave now.”
With that, she turned around to leave.
Just then, Lucian's low voice rang from behind her. “Where's Morrison?”
Roxanne stopped and looked back in confusion. “What?”
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