"Her family!
A man who gave her roses.
Well..."
Draven stared at the black Maybach that was slowly driving away and sneered.
She must have been chatting happily with her so-called family as soon as she turned on her phone early in the morning.
He stared at it for a long time. It was not until the car drove away that he withdrew his gaze, and his face was stern.
From beginning to end, the people in the car did not look at him.
Cierra liked roses.
In the past, if she had a crush on someone, she would hope that someone would give her a bunch of roses, even if there was only one.
Later on, perhaps because she had been too obsessed with it and had never gotten it, she gradually transferred this kind of love to herself.
"If no one gives it to me, then I can give a rose to myself.
"Why do people always focus on others when they live?
No one loved me, I was the one who loved myself."