The reporters not far behind Cherish Turner kept pressing their shutters, as if they were capturing some gossip-worthy news. Throughout, some shouted, "Miss, please turn around," "Miss, what's your relationship with Mr. Griffith," "Is this young lady Mr. Griffith's new love?" among similar remarks.
Cherish couldn't hear any of the clamor.
She stubbornly tightened her lips, clenching her fists, as if holding back something, not allowing her emotions to break.
Cherish Turner didn't even bother to look at his face, only staring at his chest and softly asking, "Why did you transfer thirty percent of your stocks to me?"
William Griffith was silent for a moment before answering solemnly, "It's what you deserve."
Deserve? Cherish felt the urge to laugh, but why couldn't she?