He abruptly walked over to the computer, opened an email, and rapidly started typing. After marking it, he quickly sent it off.
Then he completely deleted it.
Only then did he calm down and walk out the door.
Dressed in black casual clothes, he exuded a chilling aura.
His subordinates couldn't help but shiver, feeling that Mr. Ghost was different from before.
Although as modest and polite, silent and reserved as before, and not a flamboyant or utterly heartless man, he wasn't as cold and distant as he was now.
"Mr. Ghost, sorry, it's protocol." Underneath a luxurious clubhouse quiet as a church by day, two bodyguards in black suits, foreigners with strong, towering statures, descended from a plush Lincoln — one of them a Black man holding a sealed black plastic bag, approached.
