Under his murderous gaze, Emilia Goldsmith gracefully sat on the sofa, sitting cross-legged, and candidly said, "I'm not short of money, and there's nothing wrong with my brain. Who would I tell? The paparazzi? Besides, we're partners now, and I want to rely on you for some peace and quiet. I don't want to spend 365 or 366 days constantly on blind dates."
Baron Lawrence's expression softened a bit.
"But..." Emilia propped her chin, curiously leaned in, and opened the crumpled documents on the table. She glanced at the content she had already seen and asked, "What are you going to do now? Tell your girlfriend directly?"
Fearing the world wouldn't be chaotic enough, she added, "Honestly, with your girlfriend's personality, I don't think she can accept this outcome."
Baron Lawrence's veins on the back of his hand were pulsating; of course, he knew that Enna might not be able to accept it. Even he couldn't accept it when he saw those documents. How could Enna?
