The more Joyce listened, the more her eyebrows tightened.

She clarified, "Mr. Henderson, you misunderstand me. I can't think that far ahead. I'm not sure about your relationship with Otis and Luther. I simply feel that you are not the same as Otis. Not suitable. That's all." "Huh. You sounded as if you know me well." Justin sneered.

Joyce was stunned.

How could she not know him? She couldn't know him better. She had spent all the years of her youth with him.

She looked at him with glowing eyes, "Did Mr. Henderson ever go through something? From you, I can sense an unusual past. Why do you have to target Mr. Warner?"

Justin snickered, "He killed my wife. Does that count?"

He violently crushed the thin porcelain teacup in his hand, and the tea was spilled all over the table. He was covered with a strong aura of resentment, as if the weight of hostility was about to swallow everything around him.

This was the second time that Joyce had heard Justin mention that. She got up in a hurry and wiped the tea that had turned up in front of him with a tablecloth.

"The deceased has passed away, and if Mrs. Henderson knows what you did now, do you think she would be happy?" Joyce raised her eyes and looked at him earnestly and sincerely.

Justin

was as if Joyce was now in front of

around, she would not want to see him

do? He could only live

opened slightly, closed,

gave him just the

a trance, he almost wanted to call out Joyce's name, but in the end, he held

voice. It was not her,

her

had such an ambiguous relationship. He

you shouldn't be in." His clear, moist eyes returned instantly

away by him and fell backwards on the

her lip

can't always live in the past. Please

Justin coldly refused, "Don't you tell me what to do before

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