The President of Idle Women Association

Benita raised her hands to touch Steffan's arms which he promptly recoiled from, to Benita's chagrin

She still maintained her plastered smile as she complained, "Your fangs are too spiky, darling. I am a visitor here and deserve to be taken care of."

Steffan's expression was as dark as the bottom of a charred pot as he retorted,

"If you need someone to wait on you, there are countless servants in the house. You can choose from anyone of them but definitely not me."

The air around them was a huge contrast to the lively and colorful atmosphere in other parts of the garden.

"But I want you to serve me," Benita batted her eyes at Steffan'in what she assumed would without fail attract his sympathy.

She had been raised with the belief that women were to be doted on and not ignored and has always been pampered with everyone and everything at her beck and call.