"Alright, we're leaving then."

"Bye Auntie."

Tyrone reached to take the cosmetics from Quintessa's hand, and the two left.

Mrs. York snorted at the sound of the car starting outside, "Ungrateful kids."

Wilma was clearing the dinner table and said, “Ma'am, you actually like Ms. Young, don't you?"

"What? No. I just think, she's had it rough, losing her mom at such a young age and growing up with a stepmom. The Yates family, they're all trouble, she must have had a hard time as a kid. But the thing is, Ty likes her. If he likes her, as his mother, I can't stand in the way, can I? Besides she's quite formidable. If they do end up together, she might just keep that wild boy in line."

Wilma nodded with a smile, "You're right, ma'am."

Mrs. York stretched lazily, exhausted. She'd been shopping all day and had a spat with the Alexander couple, which had been mentally draining. She was exhausted now.

"I'll go upstairs and lie down for a while. Wilma, remember to go to the supermarket tomorrow and get some ribs, pick good ones."

"Alright!"

Summer evenings come late, and at 6 PM, the streetlights were on, but the sun hadn't set yet. The skyline was dotted with towering buildings, and the roads were bustling in this modern city. In this modern metropolis, while technology advances, people become increasingly indifferent to each other.

Quintessa watched the passing vehicles outside, lost in thought.

Tyrone drove attentively. He glanced at Quintessa and said, "There's something I've got to tell you. I'm not a spendthrift."

Quintessa turned, puzzled, "Huh?"

"I once lost two Paganis in a bet, but a few days later, I won back four. My ability to earn money is much stronger than my ability to waste it," Tyrone said seriously.

Quintessa paused for a moment, wondering why he was explaining this to her.

She nodded, "Yeah, you're pretty good at making money."

That was undeniable. Mr. Tyrone York was known for his shrewd business acumen and unmatched ability to make money. Dealing with him in business meant you rarely came out on top. Tyrone smirked, "Glad you know."

He wanted to assure Quintessa that he could make money, that he wasn't a spendthrift, and she didn't need to worry about him

squandering their wealth and .ne

not

being able to support them in the future.

But clearly, Quintessa hadn't grasped the full meaning of his words; she seemed distracted.

When they reached the set, Quintessa was about to get out of the car, but Tyrone locked the doors.

"Hold on, there's something I need to tell you."

Quintessa looked at him, "What's that?"

Tyrone gazed at her with his deep, soft, pitch-black eyes, as if they could envelop her. Quintessa paused.

With a serious expression, Tyrone

said, "We've known each other for three and a half years now. At first, I didn't think much of you. I wondered how someone as peculiar as you

hel

even existed. During the three years you were gone, I didn't spare you a I thought. I figured you were just a one-night stand, no big deal. I never expected to see you again, nor did I anticipate that, after three years, I'd remember everything about you so clearly. I thought I'd forgotten, but I hadn't.

"Back then, I wondered, why do I remember this woman so

clearlye

What's so good about her? I clearly

disliked you so much, but I couldn't

control my desire to see you again."

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