"I said, can't you two just let me slack off for a bit?"
Despite complaining, he resignedly stepped forward and began tidying up the scattered items on the table.
After more than half an hour, the living room finally looked neat and orderly again.
He wiped his hands, let out a long breath, and then plopped heavily onto the sofa.
Just as he was comfortably relaxing, a foot in a black leather shoe suddenly stretched over from the side and nudged him lightly.
He opened his eyes wide in surprise, almost bouncing off the sofa.
Tristan Sterling stood beside him, still expressionless.
"Time to go back."
"What?"
Wyatt Morgan froze completely, eyes widening.
He looked up at Tristan Sterling in disbelief.
"Are you serious? I worked hard tidying up for half the day and didn't even get a drink of water, and you want me to leave? Even Scrooge Prescott wasn't this harsh, right?"
Tristan glanced at him lightly, his tone was indifferent.
