With her final words hanging heavy in the air like a suffocating fog, Qui Anxin turned on her heel and exited the room.
The antique study door slammed shut behind her with a hollow boom that reverberated through the entire hallway. Qui Anxin paused in the hallway, her posture rigid, fists clenched at her sides. Her sharp eyes, usually gleaming with an air of control, now held a tightly controlled fury. Eventually, she took a deep breath, her face regaining its usual cool composure as she reached into her purse and retrieve her phone, her hand tightening on the cell phone as a small, almost imperceptible, squint crossed her face, a flicker of icy disapproval that spoke volumes. Finally, she lifted the phone to her ear.
"Xing Fei," she spoke, her voice laced with a steely edge that could cut glass, "tell Ms. Mei to send someone to clean my husband's study. And make it thorough."
