Chapter 422

Just these two points made it unbearable for him.

She actually dared to be reluctant to part with another man while in his embrace!

“This is mine, give it back to me.” Matthew Saxon’s inexplicable and bizarre behavior first surprised Scarlett Yates, and then she felt her anger rising.

What could be so unspeakable about something Henry Dales gave her openly in front of him?

If he really wanted to see it, she might not have refused to show it to him.

But he not only snatched away something gifted to her in such a manner, he also kept taunting her sarcastically. His behavior was outrageous and rude.

She didn’t understand why a perfectly fine evening, which could have been wonderful, he insisted on ruining.

“Give it back to you?” Matthew’s face was dark as if swept by a storm, his eyes filled with coldness, “Fine, I’ll give it back, and you return what I gave you p>

The wooden box was hurled back by him.

His throw was so powerful in his anger, one could imagine its force.

The box wrapped in his fury struck the edge of the car seat and then fell down.

The collision opened the wooden box, and as it fell, its contents rolled out.

Both Scarlett and Matthew saw what was inside.

His already grim and terrifying face became even more ghastly.

Inside the long wooden box was a painting scroll and a wood carving.

The wood carving depicted a girl with a small face, big eyes, slightly upturned lips, and a pointed chin, with soft long hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing a school uniform.

When the girl smiled, her eyes seemed to be filled with a large area of bright sunshine.

Matthew looked at it, cold laughter filled his slender eyes.

He couldn’t be more familiar with the girl’s face.

The painting scroll had a black ribbon tied around it, but having seen the wood carving, was there any doubt about what the painting depicted?

Before Scarlett could reach to retrieve the items, Matthew snatched the painting, roughly tore off the ribbon.

As the scroll unfurled, a faint scent of ink wafted in the air.

Sure enough, as he suspected, the painting also depicted a girl, whose features were even clearer than the wood carving, her lips slightly curved up, her smile bending her brows.

Matthew’s fingers holding the edge of the scroll tightened bit by bit.

Henry seemed to have poured all his emotions into this painting.

The girl’s every expression in the painting was vividly lifelike.

If he hadn’t imprinted the person in the painting deep in his heart, how could he possibly capture such realistic spirit and charm with every stroke?

He gave this painting, full of his deep feelings, to Scarlett Yates.

From now on, whenever Scarlett saw this painting, saw that wood carving, she would think of Henry Dales.

This thought made Matthew furious, his anger deepening, wishing he could tear the painting at once.

The last shred of rationality in his brain stopped his impulse, he sneered, threw the painting back to Scarlett, and stretched out his hand, his tone cold as ice, “So someone has already carved a wood sculpture for you, tonight my gesture was redundant. With Henry’s wood sculpture, you no longer need what I gave you, return it p>

Scarlett ignored him, collected the painting, picked up the box and wood carving, packed them up, and only after everything was put away did she slowly look up, staring at him with a peculiar expression, “What on earth is wrong with you p>