After a while, Bartholomeus Smith saw a faint, indifferent smile appear at the corner of Landon Brooke's mouth. That smile seemed complex, and the deep, unfathomable eyes beneath held a glint that was clear and sharp, as if a blade hidden in the darkness had suddenly been revealed, making it impossible to ignore its piercing nature.
"Is that so?"
He said those two detached words with a sneer, and then continued, "It's a bit late for anyone at this point, as she is now the future Young Mrs. Brooke."
Bartholomeus Smith was somewhat shocked by Landon Brooke's response. However, before he could decipher more from his astonishment, Landon Brooke had set down his teacup, stood up, and without another glance at him, walked towards the door with an air of cold indifference—
"You may go back. Tell Diaz Drake to make sure he completes the task. If it's not done well, he shall continue until it meets the standard."
