At 5:30 in the afternoon, the art exhibition was nearing its end. The socialites of New York City, whether they were feigning sophistication or flaunting their wealth, had essentially determined which paintings they wanted to purchase.
William finally reached the last page of his book, a satisfied smile appearing on his face as he closed it.
At that moment, David, who had spent the entire afternoon resting in the medical room, emerged.
He was utterly frustrated today. How could his phone have exploded out of nowhere?
Even if his phone exploded and his wounds were bandaged, how did he end up spurting blood mysteriously?
Besides, it should have been a burn injury!
He had bandaged the burn, but the bleeding had stained the bandages red, which was somewhat exaggerated.
After resting in the medical room for an afternoon, he had ensured his wound wouldn't bleed anymore, and only then did he limp out.
