"Book the earliest flight back home."
Originally, they were supposed to return home in three days.
"Now? But the things here..."
"The matters here have been wrapped up; just leave the follow-up issues to Bluzz to handle."
"But I'm worried..."
Owen Moreland leaned back in the leather chair, arms crossed in front of him, his gaze serious and sharp. The aura of a strategist was fully embodied in him, "If Bluzz can't even handle this small matter, then what use do I have for him?"
The voice was decisive and merciless.
Benjamin Richardson shivered involuntarily and hastily lowered his head to acknowledge: "Yes!"
After Oliver Richardson left, Owen Moreland's eyes suddenly darkened. He stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside was the bustling view of the foreign city. After a moment, he opened WhatsApp and saw Amelia Clarke's pale and fragile appearance, his eyes growing even darker.
Did she run into trouble?
