Adam Howard sat beside Daniel Marshall, squinting at him.
"Daniel, do you have a death wish? Your wounds still haven't healed yet!"
Daniel remained silent, as he continued to pour himself some liquor.
Adam frowned, "In two weeks, you can have your cast removed. You're already walking around like this; aren't you afraid you'll end up with a limp? I saw your sister-in-law's assistant and secretary at the hotel entrance. I believe she won't rashly meet with Jordan Bennett; she likely just wants to establish a partnership. After all, Jenkins Group is in dire need of cash."
The dim lighting cast Daniel's face into stark relief, emphasising his cold, foreboding demeanor, like a portent of a brewing tempest.
With a sardonic glance, Daniel silenced Adam.
Adam lit a cigarette and occupied himself with the thin smoke rings he exhaled while he watched Daniel persist in his solitary drinking.
It had been five years. He desperately hoped Daniel could move on.
