Chapter 399: Chapter 399: Complaining
Arnold Simmons found it amusing and called out in a deep voice, "It’s me."
The person inside the room seemed stunned for two seconds, and then the door was pulled open.
The girl was still in her theatrical costume, her little face was particularly flushed, and her eyes were also reddened. The whole person looked somewhat pitiful, as if she had just cried.
Her voice was soft like water, "Mr. Simmons."
After she said this, she couldn’t help but let out a small sob, and the tears she had been trying to hold back welled up in her eyes again, hanging on the verge of falling.
Arnold Simmons sighed inwardly, gently flicked away her tears from the corner of her eyes, "Why are you crying?"
Hannah turned her body sideways, clumsily wiped her face with both hands, then turned back, her soft voice raspy, "I did not cry."
Arnold Simmons stepped forward, half embracing her in his arms, and closed the door behind him.
With the door closed, the room fell into silence again.
The room wasn’t particularly large. You could see everything at a glance.
Arnold Simmons frowned, gently stroked the girl’s flushed cheek, which was surprisingly hot. Only then did he notice that she was still in her theatre costume, looking unusually charming, "Tell me, what trouble have you gotten yourself into?"
He held her on his lap as they sat on the sofa. Their clothes pressed together, her pale pink dress contrasting with his pure white shirt – a different kind of intimacy.
Hannah leaned her head against his shoulder, the heat from her body seeping through the man’s white shirt, "Tiffany Lynch falsely accused me of pushing her into the water."
It was as if she was tattling like a schoolgirl.
Her red lips parted slightly, brushing against the man’s earlobe from time to time, as if intentionally flirting.
Arnold Simmons turned his head, focusing on the girl’s creamy, soft cheeks. Her lips were slightly puckered, appearing aggrieved.
He straightened her up, his fingers gently touching her pink earlobe. The heat from her made Hannah shiver, her eyes filled with even more grievance.
He chuckled, asked, "Who is Tiffany Lynch?"
Hannah pouted, her cheeks puffing up, murmuring, "George River’s little girlfriend."
At her words, the strong grip Arnold Simmons had on the girl’s waist instinctively tightened, "They said it was you?"
Hannah nodded.
Arnold Simmons looked down, his gaze unabashedly resting on her red lips. His breath hitched, his voice husky "Did you do it?"
Hannah pursed her lips, seeming to ponder seriously for a moment before nodding again, "She was jealous because I’m prettier than her. She wanted to ruin my face and even push me into the river."
As she spoke, her face still held a trace of resentment.
After all, she cared about her face, and Arnold Simmons knew this.
Arnold Simmons’ gaze was fixed on his girl. He didn’t mind that she actually pushed someone into the river, "And then what happened?"
Her gaze landed on the man’s extraordinarily handsome face. She seemed to suddenly realize something, her eyes fluttering, filled with tears, "Mr. Simmons, do you think I’m too vicious for doing that?"
As she was about to wipe her tears, the man took her hand first. He looked into her teary eyes and reached for a tissue to wipe them, "You’re such a crybaby, I didn’t say you did anything wrong."
Hannah sobbed, though her eyes were secretly sizing up her Lord Sponsor, "You’re really not angry?"
Arnold Simmons didn’t miss his girl’s little action and found it funny, "Why would I be angry? You’re such a crybaby."
Hannah wrapped her arms around the man’s neck, looking up at him, her soft voice ringing out, "I cry because I like you."
