Song Qingyou guessed that he might be upset by Song Yuan's words earlier, so she said, "Actually, he's right. It's inevitable that people will criticize me for being too close to my ex-husband's nephew. You should..."
"Why did you give away the things I gave you to someone else?" Fu Wenzhou interrupted her coldly, his face tense. He turned his head to look at her while waiting for the red light at the intersection, his eyes deep and dark, like two whirlpools that seemed to suck people in.
Song Qingyou subconsciously looked away, but then her chin was pinched and she was forced to turn her head to look directly into his eyes.
The man's voice was deep and tender, warm yet dangerous: "Youyou, if you don't explain yourself clearly today..."
He didn't say anything more, his lowered eyes fixed on her bloodless lips, like a wolf eyeing its prey, full of threat.
Song Qingyou subconsciously stepped back, "I only used the gift box you gave me, I carefully put away the clothes."
Hearing that she had carefully put it away, Fu Wenzhou's expression softened a little, but he was still displeased: "The gift box can't be given to others to use."
Song Qingyou frowned: "Don't go to so much trouble for me anymore. I'm afraid you'll blame me if I ruin my clothes. The light's green, hurry up and drive."
"No, that won't happen." Fu Wenzhou released her, his fingertips lingeringly caressing her skin before starting the car.
She was in poor health and her body temperature was lower than normal. Her smooth, soft, and slightly cool touch was like a piece of cold jade, making her irresistible.
Fu Wenzhou continued, "You can buy new clothes if they're worn out, but you can't take the things I give you for granted."
Song Qingyou sighed softly and turned to look out the window.
Fu Wenzhou suddenly stopped the car on the side of the road.
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