"I don't know what poor people like you do with your lives. All you do is spoil my mood."

Weston looked condescendingly at May as she wiped his shoes.

His sense of superiority was currently at its highest.

May said nothing and carefully wiped Weston's shoes.

She did not care about her dignity or face, which she had lost all those years taking care of the children in the orphanage.

She would do anything not to have to pay him.

"Ha. Pfft."

Weston looked disdainfully at May and spat on her.

May paused, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

"I'm not going too far by spitting on your clothes when you made my shoes dirty, am I?"

Weston asked with a sneer after snorting coldly.

May was silent for two seconds before continuing to wipe the shoes quietly.

"Lower-class people like you should know your place."

Weston sneered, his face even smugger.

"Do you have an appointment, Sir?"

Just then, a hotel receptionist saw a guest walking in and rushed forward to greet them.

"Aunt May?"

May