Looking again at the head buried on his shoulder, some emotion flickered through Nathan Moore's dark eyes. With a bend of his arm, his towering body sank down directly.
His large hand cradled the sobbing woman's nape, a kiss landed on Titus Zane's crown of hair and lingered, without moving for a long while.
"Nathan Moore, my heart hurts so much..."
Titus Zane clutched Nathan Moore's arm tightly. After becoming extremely drunk, her most vulnerable side was also exposed, dropping all defenses like a drowning person clutching at the only straw, pouring out her despair.
His handsome brows tightened, his large hand forcefully moved Titus Zane's head away from him, showing her to be a fragile little woman beneath her cool facade.
Her hair was disheveled, and her face was marred with tear tracks.
Looking at that not-so-large but noticeable mark, Nathan Moore's handsome brows involuntarily tensed, and almost as if possessed, he pressed his thin lips down upon that pink blemish.
