Isabella didn't even blink.
Instead, she smiled faintly, her tone indifferent, almost mocking.
"Compared to the amount Mr. Steele has spent in our shop these past few days, a little coffee bean is nothing. Since you like it, why shouldn't I give you some?"
Her answer was so straightforward that it left no room for flirtation.
No room for hooks.
Charles's smile deepened. His gaze became sharper, like he was slowly peeling away the layers of her personality.
He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.
"It's said businessmen would do anything to make more money," he said lightly, but his words carried a hidden edge. "Even squeezing their employees dry for a single cent."
Then he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. "But just now, I heard you tell your shop assistant you'd give her fifty percent of the daily profits as a bonus."
His fingers tapped the coffee cup, once, twice, the sound crisp. "This is your shop, isn't it? Miss Cruz… why are you so generous?"
