"Sir... the president's stomach problem hasn't recurred much. Maybe he drank too much tonight, which is why..."
"Why has he not received treatment? Ava, you answer this question." Younes's tiger eyes were flashing with cold stars, and he didn't hear anything about Gareth's words. Ava was his wife, she should be the one monitoring all these type of things.
"Sir, Frank...he has been busy with work, so..." Ava, who was standing opposite Younes, clasped her hands in front of her, lowered her head to look at the hand-woven oriental carpet under her feet, and replied stiffly.
