Malcom Owens was unexpectedly assigned such a daunting task, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss.
His gaze inadvertently glanced at Sara Lang, and he suddenly hesitated.
"President Vanderbilt... I just..."
"Not willing?" Arabella Vanderbilt raised an eyebrow at him.
Sara Lang bit her lip lightly, looked at Malcom Owens's troubled expression, and said:
"Arabella, if you're busy, I can manage myself too. I've already troubled Mr. Owens for quite a while..."
Seeing Sara Lang's considerate appearance and her somewhat timid and pitiable look, Arabella's heart was slightly moved.
"I'm not that busy either, why don't I first take you to eat..."
Suddenly, there was a tightness at her waist, and before she could finish speaking, she was pulled into a faintly cold embrace.
Following that, a low, magnetic voice sounded beside her.
"Finished with work? Hmm?"
Um...
The tone sounded extremely affectionate, but to Arabella, it felt cold, filled with a deep warning.
"Finished."
