But Annabelle Linton was squandering Leona Grant's affection with abandon. All she had to do was crook her finger, and Leona Grant would come running.
'Her Janie... spent the most blissful day a girl could ever dream of with her face awash in tears.'
'And this was all thanks to Annabelle Linton!'
Tina Chapman's expression twisted as she pointed at Annabelle Linton and cursed, "Annabelle Linton, you're a fickle, promiscuous slut who throws herself at any man! A bitch like you who plays with people's feelings deserves a horrible death! May you be struck by lightning, drawn and—"
"What nerve. Cursing my woman? Are you tired of living?"
Just as Tina Chapman was speaking, a similarly lazy yet ice-cold voice cut in.
Annabelle Linton looked over and saw Leona Grant walking toward her.
His expression was calm, as placid as still water, showing not a hint of anger. But deep within his cold eyes, a bone-chilling frost was spreading, threatening to freeze the entire world.
