American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior

The diamond-studded nails rubbed against the velvet, making a slight rustling sound.

When she heard the door open, she didn't even raise her head, her red lips curled up into a harsh arc, and sneered:

"The Iceberg Club's efficiency is becoming increasingly disappointing—"

The words stopped abruptly.

The lady looked up suddenly, her carefully groomed eyebrows raised high.

Her pupils suddenly dilated, her coral lipstick-coated mouth opened slightly, and she swallowed unconsciously.

The blond boy in front of her was even more dazzling than she had imagined.

Her golden hair, as bright as the morning sun, looked like flowing gold under the light, totally out of place in this sinister and cunning Gotham! Her scarlet eyes were like two drops of solidified red wine, and her sharp jawline exuded an inviolable coldness.

What made her heart beat faster was——

Isn’t this the young man in the parking lot that she can’t forget?

OMG!

He is so handsome that it looks like the balance on his bank card has two extra zeros!

This huge surprise was like champagne bubbles exploding in her chest!

"Hello." Dio nodded coldly, his brows slightly furrowed.

However, this cold attitude was like a catalyst, instantly igniting the lady's more passionate interest.

She was like a butterfly that had smelled the finest nectar, her skirt swaying gracefully as she clung to me, and the strong scent of perfume filled my face.

She stretched out her hand with the diamond ring and tried to hold Dior's arm:

"My dear, we are destined to be together."

Dio snorted coldly and nimbly dodged to the side, as if avoiding something unclean. He walked straight to the other end of the sofa and sat down, his movements smooth and efficient.

His long legs were crossed, and his black leather boots shone with a cold, hard metallic luster in the ambiguous light. He looked like a perfect sculpture made of ice, snow, and gold, exuding a cold aura that kept strangers away.

But this attitude of resistance not only failed to dampen the lady's enthusiasm, but instead made her cheeks flush unnaturally!

She stroked her chest, which was rising and falling violently due to excitement, and felt the long-lost, girlish heartbeat accelerating.

This kind of throbbing and excitement is something that her dead husband, a sewer rat who only knows how to play golf and reeks of money, can never bring her.

"Dear~"

She mumbled in a low voice, her skirt rustling as she moved closer to Dio, almost sitting next to him. "I didn't expect we were so destined to meet~"

"Fated?" Dio raised his eyebrows, his tone full of obvious sarcasm.

"Hate!"

The lady half hid her face with a feather fan and giggled:

"Didn't we meet in the parking lot? I should have known you were in this line of work."

"Humph!"

Dio snorted again, the volume was not loud, but it carried an invisible pressure that frightened the lady so much that her shoulders subconsciously shrank.

But when she found that the boy was not really angry, but his eyes were a little colder, she felt a greater excitement. She swallowed unconsciously again, and her eyes wandered over Dio more openly.

"Oh, alright, alright, can't I just stop talking?"

Alana twisted the silk handkerchief restlessly, her eyes burning:

"So, dear, what fun games can we play?"

But just as the words came out

She seemed to realize that she was being too eager, and quickly covered her mouth with a fan, pretending to be shy.

"Oh, sorry dear, was I being rude? I was just...looking forward to it."

As if to hide her embarrassment, or to show off her financial strength, she suddenly raised her voice and shouted towards the door:

"Roccoman! Bring me and this gentleman ten bottles of Bordeaux immediately!"

"Cabernet Sauvignon blend! Best vintage!"

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, the door was pushed open silently.

A team of waiters in vests filed in, each carrying a crystal decanter.

The leader was the thin man from before.

It seems his name is Luo Keman?

He instructed the waiter to arrange the wine bottles neatly on the crystal coffee table, secretly gave Dio a thumbs-up, and then leaned close to his ear:

"I knew you were cut out for this!"

"These ten bottles cost $100,000, and you'll get $6,000 at a 6% commission."

He winked. “And this is just the beginning.”

Six thousand dollars? Dior's pupils shrank slightly.

He did nothing but sit there, rejecting a hug, and saying nothing.

Just earned the salary that ordinary farmers would work hard for several months?!

The smell of ink from brand new banknotes seemed to have penetrated my nostrils.

"Honey?"

The lady's expectant voice brought him back to reality. She leaned forward, her plump breasts almost touching the edge of the coffee table. "What should we do next?"

Dio remained silent.

To him, this kind of thing was as boring as watching the sheets that had been drying in the sun all afternoon at Old Bob's house fluttering in the wind.

etc.

He remembered seeing it in the club profile.

Under the lady's obsessed gaze, Dior suddenly leaned forward.

The movements are graceful yet carry an irresistible aggression.

I recalled what I had learned from watching Peninsula soap operas with Clark.

Dio's slender fingers lifted the lady's carefully maintained face, and with an almost blasphemous frivolity, he forced her to look into his bottomless red eyes.

"My dear lady." With a bewitching arc on his lips, Dio whispered a devilish whisper, "These mundane pastimes are too boring. I have an idea that is more exciting and more suitable for your status."

The noble lady swallowed her saliva and looked at the handsome face that looked like a god so close to her, and her breathing almost stopped.

The boy's hot breath brushed against her cheek faintly, and his ruby-like eyes seemed to be burning with dark hellfire, wanting to suck her soul in.

The huge feeling of dizziness and the excitement of being in control made her feel weak all over.

She seemed to be under a spell, her eyes blurred, and she could only nod foolishly. The expensive diamond on her ring finger flashed a dazzling light as she moved.

"Okay, dear, whatever you say, I'll listen to you."

"."

The corners of his mouth curved.

Dio had to admit——

Clark, the soap operas you watch are so useful!

Chapter 97 Master Lex is eating

In the Kent family's dining room.

Warm yellow light shines on the oak dining table, illuminating a wide variety of home-cooked dishes.

The special barbecued ribs exude an enticing aroma, the creamy corn soup is steaming, and the freshly baked garlic bread is golden and crispy.

Lex Luthor was feasting in a manner that was completely different from his usual elegant image.

He held the fork in his left hand and the knife in his right, and his movements were so fast that they almost left afterimages.

Pieces of tender and juicy steak disappeared into his mouth at an astonishing speed, and his cheeks bulged like a hamster hoarding food.

“Wow, this is so delicious.”

He mumbled, his fork already reaching for his third baked potato.

This scene left Clark, Locke and Jonathan, who were sitting across the table, stunned.

This... is this still the little Luther they remember, who is always well-dressed, behaves elegantly, and seems to be out of touch with the world?

The Lex in front of him looked like a wild man who had just been released from a wilderness survival show!

"belch--!"

After burping in an ungraceful manner, Luther continued to eat as if he were a refugee who had been hungry for three days.

Jonathan wiped the sweat from his forehead and couldn't help but say:

"Lex, what has Lionel done to you these past few years? To make you so hungry?"

Luther shrugged, his mouth full of food:

"Nothing much, just eating nutrient paste every day."

He said it lightly.

"."

There was a brief silence at the table.

Nutri-Gibberish? Lionel Luthor's son?

"How could Lionel do this!" Martha sighed distressedly: "Poor child."

She stood up, her apron still stained with flour.

"Lex, eat slowly, I'll make you some more."

“Thank you, Auntie.”

Luther raised his head and gave a bright smile that was extremely sincere and even a little childish.

There was a funny bit of dark brown gravy at the corner of his mouth.

At this moment, the aristocratic aloofness that he had deliberately maintained finally disappeared, revealing the appearance of an ordinary young man of his age, completely different from the flawless elite style when he first entered the house.

Watching his friend wolfing down his food, Clark silently pushed the last piece of neatly cut steak left on his plate to the edge of Lex's plate.

but

"Clark." Luther chuckled. "You've been so tired this afternoon, you should eat more."

"Effortful?"

Locke keenly caught this key word, put down the water cup in his hand, and looked between Clark and Lex with questioning eyes.

"Nothing." Luther winked cunningly, his eyes drifting towards Clark who froze for a moment, "It's just that my car had a little problem and almost disturbed Clark and his daughter..."

"Lex!"

Clark's face flushed instantly, and his hands shook so much that he almost bent his fork.

"Cough cough."

Pretending to cough a few times due to choking, Luther took the opportunity to stuff another spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

He lowered his head and hunched his shoulders suspiciously.

After the laughter died down, he put down his cutlery and stood up solemnly.

"Clark, thank you for saving me."

"Thank you so much!"

He nodded slightly, expressing his most sincere gratitude.

Being thanked so solemnly, Clark was actually at a loss. He waved his hands repeatedly:

"No, it's nothing, Lex, there's really no need to be like this."