The night before going to Tranquil City, Bertha Haines couldn't sleep.
Early the next morning, she boarded Amos Smith's private jet with panda eyes.
The plane was spacious, fully equipped, with a rest area and an entertainment area, like a large suite.
It wasn't cheap at all.
Bertha's curiosity got the better of her: "This plane... must be worth millions, right?"
Amos' lips curved slightly: "Less than that."
Bertha was surprised: "Over ten million then?"
The curve of Amos' smile grew wider: "Still less."
Bertha: "..."
Amos glanced at her sideways: "Why aren't you guessing anymore?"
Bertha pouted: "I don't want to know the price anymore." She felt like asking was just self-torture.
A hundred million?
Even working hard her whole life, she probably wouldn't earn that much money.
Amos clearly understood her thoughts: "I'm pretty good at judging people... You will definitely become a rich lady someday."
