Delphine stared in astonishment. The handsome and dignified man sat leisurely and elegantly on the sofa, as though surveying his kingdom, now comfortably ensconced in her home—and asking her to take care of him?
"I might not be able to afford you." Delphine forced a smile. From head to toe, everything about this man—what he ate and drank, what he wore and used—was undoubtedly top-tier. The money she earned from making movies could barely support two little kids, let alone someone like him.
"If I hand over all my stocks, bonds, shares, and properties to you—would that be enough to support me, hmm?" Ignatius Leclair's phoenix eyes were as dark as ink, his lips curving into a faint smile.
Delphine bit her lip. Ignatius's net worth, if not in the hundreds of billions, was at least in the tens of billions—beyond calculation. Was this man joking?
