Down in the lobby, everyone turned their puzzled gazes toward Jiang Muwan's face. There were looks of astonishment and surprise.
It seemed they felt the assistant general manager was quite pitiable at this moment.
She had provoked someone she shouldn't have, and that person had even sent blood roses to her doorstep.
And Jiang Muwan?
She was quite composed, with her usual indifferent shallow smile hanging on her face.
Perhaps the other party thought that she surely would have died last night; otherwise, why would they brazenly send blood roses to Huazhong today?
If she had died, it would be a celebration; if she hadn't, it was a warning.
She reached out, pulled over the blood-red petals, and slowly rubbed them in her palm; underneath her indifferent expression was a thinly hidden cold smirk.
Want to mess with her?
You'd better have the ability.
