Besides, he had already died over ten times during this meeting. This was sufficient evidence that his President was currently in an extremely irritable mood.
"Out."
Without even lifting his head, Kris Cooper resurrected his character on the spot.
Tommy Taylor left the room, closing the door behind him.
Throwing his phone on the desk, Kris Cooper propped his feet up on it, his gaze fixed on the chair Vera Wave had occupied. After a moment, he lowered his feet, stood up, snatched his phone from the desk, and headed for the door. He pulled it open, then glanced back at the chair she had used.
Idiot!
Noticing some papers under the table where she had sat, he strode over. He bent down to pick up the few pages and glanced at them, his amber eyes slowly narrowing.
The papers in his hand weren't the documents she had dropped. It was the love contract, and in the space provided for Party B, her name—Vera Wave—was already signed.
「...」
「Forty-eighth floor.」
