Matthew Saxon's heartbeat grew faster and faster.
He took a deep breath, unconsciously clenched his fists, and tried hard to suppress the strange emotions surging in his heart, turning his head to the side and pressing his thin lips together. In a low voice with a hint of annoyance, he said: "You really love to put yourself on a pedestal. I didn't beg you to do this, it was all voluntary on your part, so don't expect me to be grateful to you."
"Ah, good intentions are treated as donkey liver and lungs. I risked my life to save you, and not only are you ungrateful, but you're also being so fierce with me." She sighed softly, her tone seemed a bit resentful.
Matthew snorted coldly: "You don't have to do this either, I don't want to owe you anything."
He didn't want to owe her anything.
This woman's skin is thick. If she helps him this time, whether he admits it or not, he will owe her a favor. Given her shamelessness, she might use this to demand he do this and that.
