Three words, bitten off with a cold, sinister chill.
Luo Qiangwei turned her head and was met with the sight of the man's grim face, his brows and eyes shadowed with icy gloom. She arched an eyebrow slightly, "President Moh, what's wrong now? Is your 'propane tank' personality acting up again?"
Hadn't he vented enough in the afternoon, now he was at it again?
Moh Shiche didn't speak, just stared heavy-heartedly at her, his fingers tightening even more. She felt the pain, frowned, and shook off his hand, "Moh Shiche, let go of me!"
It was as if he had been waiting for her to start, and the moment she did, the man seized his chance to retort, his voice cold and mocking, "Let go? So you can go flaunt yourself in front of those men?"
Flaunt myself...
Luo Qiangwei was taken aback for a moment before she realized what he meant, her eyebrows coldly lifted, "Oh, so what if I did? Is it a crime to flaunt what I own?"
