Iria Lindsay looked at Arfen Finch drinking on the sofa, "If you have nothing else, I'll go back to sleep?"
"That person is dead, are you very sad?" Arfen Finch asked in a somber tone.
Iria lowered her gaze, her voice calm, "I'm not."
Arfen Finch gently swirled the cup in his hand, "You can't fool me."
Iria pursed her lips, walked over with large strides, bent down to pick up a knife from the fruit tray on the coffee table, "If you don't believe me, sir, then nothing I say matters!"
Raising her right hand, she suddenly thrust the knife toward her throat.
Bang!
A flash of bright light streaked through the air.
A wine glass flew over and hit her right hand, causing the fruit knife in Iria's hand to fly out.
"Sir?!"
Arfen Finch leaned back against the sofa, "Your life belongs to me, if I don't allow you to die, you don't even have the right to die. Come here and massage my shoulders."
"Yes!"
