Quinn Sinclair looked like she'd been struck by lightning!
Her expression was stiff and dazed as she stared at the man in front of Celia Sterling. For a moment, she thought she must be hearing things.
Silas Norwood had already sat down beside Celia Sterling.
He slowly removed his mask.
That incredibly distinctive face appeared before Quinn Sinclair—noble, aloof, and exquisitely handsome, with striking features.
He placed the milk teas by Celia Sterling's hand and said softly, "One is seventy-percent sugar, and one is thirty-percent. Try them both and drink whichever one you like."
As he spoke, he put straws in both cups, then picked one up and held it to her lips. Celia Sterling took a sip and shook her head slightly. "It's too bland. I don't want this one."
"The seventy-percent, then." Silas Norwood handed her the other cup, took back the thirty-percent one, and had a sip himself. "You're right, it's not very good," he commented.
