Hannah Garcia stared at Harry Collins, whose eyes she had provoked to a red fury; his current state was truly unsightly.
"Who is behind you helping you?" Harry Collins demanded.
For the past month, he had people looking into it, but there wasn't a single piece of news. The person behind her was like a mysterious, massive demon—unseeable and untouchable; yet, Harry Collins felt its presence.
"Don't you think it's ridiculous to ask such a question?" Hannah Garcia scornfully retorted, "If you're capable, why don't you find out yourself?"
"Hannah Garcia, are you flaunting your arrogance in front of me?"
"In front of you, I don't need to be arrogant at all, because you, such trash, aren't worth my arrogance!" Flaunting arrogance in front of him would mean she esteemed him.
Harry Collins wanted to slap her, but the bodyguards by her side immediately rushed over.
They had been on guard against him since the morning.
