Immediately, Tristan Sterling let out a low chuckle, his voice not loud but clearly transmitted through the receiver into her ears.
His tone revealed no emotion, as if everything was within his expectations, "I'm right at the door."
"R-really?"
Her heart trembled, her eyes instantly lit up like a drowning person finally grasping onto a life-saving piece of driftwood.
Her whole body suddenly relaxed, her tense shoulders slowly drooped, and the heart that was suspended finally settled back into her chest.
She knew very well—Dr. N's medicine would never go wrong.
The pharmaceutical development report was genuine and effective, the process compliant, the materials complete.
As long as Tristan Sterling stood by her side, there was still hope for a turnaround.
She lifted the corners of her mouth again, drawing out a proud and flamboyant curve, turning to Vivian Sinclair, she said word by word, "You can't win."
With Tristan Sterling around, even if the sky falls, he can hold it up.
