小说内容

林薇觉得今天自己大概是撞大运了，就在她 едва поместиться in the backseat of the taxi, the door was ripped open, and a towering figure leaned in. Black turtleneck shirt, expensive leather pants, that cold, arrogant gaze— 顾夜寒。 She’d originally hit him with her car, a fender bender, and somehow now she was stuck in his personal car, waiting to be taken to his apartment. The whole thing felt like a nightmare, but the man next to her was seriously getting to her nerves. "Where’s the driver?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but her voice was shaking a bit. "I'm driving." He didn’t even look at her, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. He was so close, she could smell his expensive cologne, but it made her want to sneeze. "Then why am I in the backseat?" she shot back, feeling a bit reckless. He finally turned his head to look at her, those piercing eyes locking onto hers. "Because you hit my car." His voice was low, dangerous.