The lady, who had been cursing out the parents of the people on the yacht, finally stopped and turned around in astonishment.
Her wet white dress clung to her body.
Her thick black hair was a mess as it covered half of her especially fair face.
If the woman hadn't cursed the moment she came ashore, Elena might've thought that she had encountered some supernatural thing like a female ghost in the ocean.
The female artist didn't know who she was, but Luke was all too familiar with the sassy speech of this G-cup baker, Max.
It was already late at night, and the closest lights were dozens of meters away.
Max turned around and saw two figures leaning against each other.
Margaret? With her just lying there, Max treated her like a pile of junk.
Max walked forward a few meters before she confirmed that they were a couple.