Faye narrowed her eyes, her jawline tightened into a sharp and solitary curve.
This clearly meant disbelief in her.
"I don't even know what you're talking about. Why did you suddenly lock me up and ask me these absurd questions? I don't know anything. Please let me out." Eleanor Whittaker's tone was almost pleading.
Tears streamed down her face, pitiful and moving.
Her delicate face was like a rain-drenched pear blossom, evoking immense sympathy.
Unfortunately, Faye was like an ice man, feeling nothing at all. Instead, he mocked her, "I am not Xavier."
The implication was not to pretend in front of him; he wasn't buying it.
Although his expression did not change, remaining indifferent, a strong and cold domineering aura instantly spread through the air.
In an instant, Eleanor Whittaker felt she couldn't breathe.
