Upon arriving at the orphanage, he got out of the car without changing his expression, leaving her to handle the fare. Cynthia angrily paid the driver and got out of the car.
"Mr. Wilson—"
His sharp gaze, hidden behind his sunglasses, cut through her, sending a chill down her spine. She quickly changed her tone, awkwardly correcting herself.
"Uh... Albert..."
Somehow, calling him this way made her originally forceful question sound more like a cute complaint.
"You've been staying at my place, eating my food, using my things for these past few days. Shouldn't you at least contribute something? Like, for example, the taxi fare. Couldn't you be more generous and pay for it yourself?"
"I wanted to pay," he said, looking at her with an innocent expression, "but the problem is, can I pay with a card?"
He took out his wallet, opened it to show her.
"Look, I only have a bank card, no cash!"