The atmosphere in the elevator suddenly became depressing. Nicola Clinton looked down at the quivering eyelashes of Amelia Wytte, and his throat tightened.

"Fuck off!" His voice was hoarse.

Amelia Wytte, who had lost her mind, could not tell his emotions. She only felt that his body was cool with a good smell of sandalwood, and hugged him more tightly.

"It's so comfortable, so comfortable..." she narrowed her eyes and whispered.

Nicola Clinton 's eyes darkened with desire.

"Ding." Suddenly, the elevator door opened. The people outside saw Nicola Clinton 's face as black as the bottom of a pan. They swallowed and quickly moved aside.

Nicola Clinton 's face...