The contact gave Lyndon pause, and he turned his head to look at her.

Tilda's face shifted slightly. She withdrew her hand, taking a step back.

Lyndon took the glasses and handed them to her, only to find Tilda wiping her fingers with tissue.

He was dumbfounded.

She was wiping right where his fingers had just touched.

Lyndon looked at her, holding out her glasses.

"Miss Larson, here you go."

Tilda crumpled the tissue in her hand, her lips pressed in a stiff line. She took the glasses from Lyndon and put them on, then turned to leave without a word.

“Wait a minute." Lyndon stopped her.

She paused but did not turn around.

When it was clear that she had no plans of facing him, Lyndon said, "I want to thank you again, Miss Larson. However, there's one thing I don't understand. Since you already had the recording, you could have stopped the situation much earlier, so why didn't you?"

Tilda's hands tightened into fists. For a while, she was silent. Then, she said, "I can do whatever I want. It's my call."

With that, she left in a hurry.

Lyndon followed her with his gaze, his eyes narrowing in thought.

Since he was a child, many women chased after him because of his looks and family background.

Only a few people avoided him like Tilda.

Perhaps it was because of a different sexual orientation?

But that seemed a little far-fetched.

Tilda had taken the recording but didn't stop things the first time.

It made Lyndon think that she had done it on purpose.