Does she really like Tristan Sterling?
She couldn't tell, nor could she explain.
All she knew was that, whenever she found herself in trouble.
That man would always show up, silently.
She used to be afraid of him, afraid of his overly calm eyes, afraid of his merciless criticism.
Curtis Prescott saw her silent and assumed she consented.
He swallowed, raised his hand, and gently patted her on the top of her head.
"Vivian, you're not suitable for each other."
The hand rested in her hair, trembling slightly.
"He's part of the Sterling Family, pampered since childhood, wild in temper, never following rules. Being with him, I'm afraid you'll get hurt."
He didn't want to break them up.
Yet he couldn't bear to watch her walk a path potentially filled with thorns.
Tristan Sterling is a favored child of heaven.
And she is the Prescott Family's stepdaughter, with their statuses far apart, her situation difficult.
He fears she'll be hurt, fears she will cry.
