The secretary stood by with trembling fear, the first time she had seen the normally gentle and refined man this furious.
"Go buy me a new phone," Jun Mochan ordered without lifting his head, his complexion still unsightly, though not as horrifying as before.
"Yes."
...
Hearing the busy signal on the other end of the phone, Ye Ranran naturally ended the call, told the costume department to contact her if needed, and left.
"Madam, you should speak properly with the young master," One suggested while driving.
"Haven't I been speaking properly?" Ye Ranran said, frustrated.
She had spoken kindly, analyzed pros and cons—she had said it all. If he still disagreed, what more was there to say?
"He said I don't trust him, but can't he trust me just once?" Can't she accomplish just one thing? Did he really feel so insecure about leaving the company in her hands?
Fear she would run away with the money?
