Wyatt Lewis's face fell into shadows.
Why did this guy have to dance on his brother's bottom line? What was the benefit for him?
He felt that the coldness exuding from his brother was about to freeze the entire hospital room.
Yet, this love rival could still sit there serenely. He was really afraid that his brother would flip the table in anger.
Waylon Lewis strode to the table; Wyatt's eyelids twitched.
Was he about to flip the table?
At that moment, he felt that the chilly gaze was fixed on himself.
Wyatt felt a tingling on his scalp as he looked up at his brother. If you're staring at me, what are you doing?
Wyatt's shoulders couldn't help but tremble slightly as he tentatively stood up.
Waylon's somber face softened a bit. He bent down and sat in Wyatt's spot next to Hope Williams.
Benjamin Myers raised his eyes.
"Is President Lewis going to have some too?"
Waylon gave him a faint glance. "Don't you think you're being an eyesore here?"