Files were sprawled all over the Presidentâs office floor.
The man sitting on the leather swivel chair rubbed his temples, leaning back and closing his eyes.
His stomach faintly ached from not eating all day.
He reached his hand out, habitually applying pressure to his stomach to ease the pain.
The scene from lunch today reemerged in his mindâ¦
Those words, âPresident Lawrence, nice to meet you,â surfaced as well.
The same voice, the same tone, the same person. Why do her words trigger such a strong urge to choke her to death?!
Nice to meet him?
President Lawrence?
He meticulously recalled every word, every action of the woman since reuniting with her, every gesture, every detail replayed in his mind.
The more he recalled, the more suppressed he felt, and the more his chest tightened!
It was as if his chest had been slashed open, his heart exposed and repeatedly tortured.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes, sat up, and picked up the phone on the office desk, dialing a number.
Beep.
The phone connected after just one ring.
âHello, Lord, what can I do for you?â
âFind out where Rhineâs representative is staying?ân/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
âRhineâs representative?â
âBesides her residence, I want all of her information! Find out as much as you can, as quickly as possible!â
âAlright, Iâll have someone look into it immediately.â
The call ended.
He opened his laptop, switched to the new project, and tried to focus on his work. However, he gave up within five minutes, irritatedly sipping the coffee on his desk.
Earlier, he had asked for a new cup of coffee because it was too hot, and now it was too cold.
The icy coffee hit his throat, instantly aggravating his already aching stomach. He furrowed his brows, picked up the internal phone, and dialed.
âBring me a fresh cup of coffee!â
He hung up bluntly after his order.
Three minutes later, Secretary Thomas nervously brought in a cup of coffee, âPresident Lawrence, should I put the coffee on the table?â
âJust put it there.â
He placed it on the table apprehensively, not rushing out of the room.
As expected, the man with the tense expression sipped the coffee, his brows instantly furrowing like he could kill a fly with them. His piercing gaze landed on Thomas, âDonât you know how to gauge the temperature?â
ââ¦I do.â
âYou call this coffee? Itâs ice water!â He set the coffee cup down coldly, âToo cold, make it again!â
Secretary Thomas didnât waste a single second, apologizing, âIâm sorry, President Lawrence; Iâll brew a fresh pot right away.â
He quickly left with the barely-sipped coffee cup, looking as if he was being chased by a ghost.
He was swift, returning with a new cup of coffee after five minutes. This time he was smarter, testing the temperature before bringing the coffee in, ensuring it was just the right temperature to drink.
He carefully placed the coffee cup on the office desk.
Baron Lawrence nonchalantly picked up the cup and took a sip, seeming to frown, making Secretary Thomasâs heart flutter.
Just as he thought he was in big trouble again, the haughty man swept an impatient glance over him, âWhat are you still standing there for? Do you expect a bonus after making coffee?â
âNo⦠Iâll leave immediately.â
Although he was scolded, Secretary Thomas felt a sense of relief as he hurriedly left the room.