“Okay, hurry on home.”

Having said that, Stanley braced the snow and walked swiftly to the roadside. The streetlights elongated his shadow. Watching him go, Xyla immediately felt a surge of warmth in her heart.

Taking off the coat, she quickly chased after him and stuffed it into his hands. “Put this on. I’m not cold. Why don’t I send you back? There’s no need to trouble your friend.”

“My friend will be here soon,” he said as he prepared to drape the coat over her shoulders again.

Xyla nimbly dodged away before quickly running to her red Maserati, not giving him any chances. Staring at that slender silhouette, Stanley’s cold lips gradually curved upward slightly. After Xyla got into her car, she disappeared into the night.

A little while after she left, a row of black Rolls Royces stopped steadily in front of Stanley. Zack could immediately be seen leading a group of black-clothed men as they stood respectfully in front of Stanley, bowing.

Zack opened a car door for Stanley,