Ken trailed behind Wyatt, carrying his suitcase. He looked at his boss’s dispirited and cold face and couldn’t help but think of him in fear.
“President, that is Roel’s phone...”
Roel, the driver who followed them, watched in fear as his few hundred-dollar phones were nearly crushed in Wyatt’s grip.
After all, Wyatt had rescued her, so something between them should have changed.
Who knew that she would immediately hang up the phone once Ivy heard his name?
Wyatt’s face was downcast as he deleted the call record and returned the phone to Ken.
Wyatt exuded such an unapproachable aura.
Ken returned the driver’s phone. And then caught up with Wyatt.
“President, the renowned painter Mr. Bernard cordially invites you to this evening’s soft opening of his fine art exhibition restaurant.”
