Early in the morning, sitting at the dining table, Nathan Moore occupied the head seat, with Titus Zane and Olivia Zane sitting on his left and right, respectively.
The three of them were having breakfast, but the varieties were different.
Nathan and Olivia were having Chinese-style breakfast, millet porridge with steamed buns.
In front of Titus lay Western-style toast with ham and a glass of fresh juice. He had become accustomed to the diet of Westerners after living abroad for so long.
It’s just that, since that time, Titus had never drunk milk again.
Titus himself was a person of subdued temperament. When silent, he gave off an even colder vibe, seemingly indifferent to everything around him, as if he were wholly alone.
Just like now, as Olivia was considerately urging Nathan to eat more breakfast, she kept her gaze down while eating quietly, as if she did not exist at all.
Although sisters with Olivia, the two of them did not resemble each other in the slightest.
Especially in terms of aura.
Olivia had the demeanor of someone gentle and clinging, with a young porcelain baby face still sporting baby fat, making her look very cute.
While Titus belonged to those with an elegant and coldly beautiful temperament, every move he made was graceful.
The toast was spread with butter, then covered with another slice, held between both hands and brought to the lips for a gentle bite. It must be said that when one is beautiful, even eating is a pleasing sight.
Nathan gave a faint glance in that direction, noticing the white gauze wrapped around Titus’s left hand, his brow crinkling imperceptibly, his stern face betraying no other emotion.
Yet a certain vision flashed through his mind.
"Sis, what happened to your hand?" Olivia also saw Titus’s left hand and stopped eating, asking curiously.
"It’s nothing, not lethal." Titus’s expression was cold and indifferent, unwarmed by his sister’s concern.
"Sis!" Olivia put down her chopsticks, pouting unhappily and protesting.
"We’re all family, why must you be antagonistic towards me?"
Hearing Olivia’s question, Titus finally looked up, his clear, cold gaze devoid of much emotion.
His pale lips parted slightly as he spoke.
"This has always been my nature." Under the light accusing and aggrieved gaze of Olivia, Titus suddenly placed the toast he was holding onto his plate.
Lowering his gaze, he tidied up the utensils he had used and spoke again.
"Sorry for disturbing your breakfast. From now on, I will eat in my room."
After speaking, he arranged his used utensils, stood up, and prepared to leave.
"Stop." Nathan’s voice was firm, his stern face now harboring an edge of criticism and authority.
"Finish your breakfast. The Moore Family does not have the habit of wasting food."
Standing at the dining table, Titus’s hands resting on the tabletop, his cold eyes met Nathan’s unfeeling stare, lingering without motion for a long time.
Olivia bit her lip, watching the standoff between the two, a flash of panic crossing her heart.
Actually, Nathan and her sister were very similar; both were excessively cold and domineering. Just like now, as their gazes interlocked, neither showed any intention of yielding.
"Sis..." Olivia called out timely, and for some reason, as she watched their gazes cross, she inexplicably felt as if the two were sharing a deep, affectionate look.
Titus glanced at her, then promptly grabbed the remaining large half of the toast and stuffed it into her mouth.
With her gaze lowered, she chewed forcefully, a silent act of defiance.