In the land of free democracy that is America, there exists a rule, roughly speaking, that some people's blood is freer, more democratic.
Cheng Daqi's judgment of Temir was always right; the wealthy woman with the black hair wasn't his type of person.
"Miss, do we need to take care of that man?"
Temir's bodyguard captain stood behind him without a sideways glance, indifferent to everything in front of him.
"Scram!"
The black-haired wealthy woman was infuriated by Cheng Daqi's refusal to bend for money, but that didn't mean she wanted to bury him.
"Also, send over his Greek passport as soon as possible."
The bodyguard captain said nothing, simply nodded and left.
Temir stood by the window and lit a cigarette.
She could no longer see herself clearly.
Yesterday, she was confident she could see herself clearly, but today she realized she could no longer control her own thoughts and actions.
She was at a loss.
