It was already too late.
If Zhou Lin had tried to make amends for the hurt he had caused Cheng Zhiwei when he discovered his mistake, she might have easily forgiven him.
But he didn't; faced with his own error, he chose to make mistake after mistake.
Now, what made him think a simple "I know I was wrong" would be enough to gloss over everything?
He wasn't naive, yet he assumed others were foolish.
"Between He Ye and you, do you think I would choose someone who has hurt me?" Cheng Zhiwei smirked sarcastically, the irony thick in her voice. "No, Zhou Lin, if I really chose you, it would make me feel sick."
Sick?
Zhou Lin's face turned pale, the fine sweat on his forehead now large beads. He pressed his hand against his stomach, bending over slightly.
Cheng Zhiwei watched him coldly and took out her phone to call Secretary Zhang to pick up Zhou Lin.
