Li Qianrui quickly straightened up in the man's embrace; if looks could kill, she would have slain him a thousand times over.
Without even raising her eyes, she knew she had become the center of attention.
"Heh," she said with a forced, perfunctory smile, curling her luscious red lips, "President Zhou, you really do jest. Why don't you rehearse with Su Mo? I can't act..."
"Heh." The man responded with a low chuckle.
Li Qianrui's cheeks flushed with heat; he was mocking her because she was indeed acting, and she could probably win an Oscar in his eyes.
Zhou Jin held on to her slim waist with a large hand, preventing her from escaping, then with raised eyebrows, he looked towards Su Mo who was already stiff on the bed, "We're about to rehearse now, won't you step aside?"
Su Mo was still occupying the bed.
His words turned Su Mo's face even paler; her fragile body shook slightly, clearly hurt by the man's cold-blooded cruelty and embarrassment—it was a blatant slap in her face.
