The private room was very quiet, the perfectly seared steak was skillfully and elegantly placed in front of her.
Norris Moore's tense nerves were drawn to the steaming food in front of her.
She was famished, and upon seeing the steak served, she involuntarily picked up the cutlery, sliced a piece with the knife, and stuffed it into her mouth. It burnt her, and as she frantically looked for water, a glass of ice water was swiftly handed to her, and a man's voice resonated beside her ear, "Eat slowly, there's more."
She grasped the glass, nervously lifted her hand, and looked up at the man in front of her, his dark eyes fixed on her face, then he asked, "You seem very afraid of me."
"No... no," Norris Moore awkwardly averted her gaze, lowering her head to drink some water, "You seem to recognize me... but I don't quite remember you... Were we not on good terms before? You seem... like you don't really like me."
