This call almost disturbed Pei Zhiyao's thoughts.
The man furrowed his brows as he answered, his left hand still restraining Wen Mian's wrist.
The fair skin already bore a red mark from her struggling, not too deep but noticeable.
At the same time, a voice came through the earpiece.
"Zhiyao, there's an event I need to discuss with you in person. The last project is almost complete. Once everything is wrapped up, we'll need to have a proper talk to set the future direction."
The crisp voice brushed against Pei Zhiyao's heart like a feather.
Yet the man's gaze was fixed on Wen Mian, his attention entirely on her.
"Understood," he replied.
Pei Zhiyao cleared his throat, responding to Ling Yuyan's words.
But a sharp cunning flashed in Wen Mian's eyes.
Before Pei Zhiyao could react, Wen Mian's right hand was already caressing his waist.
The gentle touch made Pei Zhiyao unconsciously grunt.
The woman's stimulation also elicited an ambiguous tone from Pei Zhiyao.
