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... es. Now."

Nimue kept her amused smile, lifting her hands in surrender as she gracefully descended to the ground. Her movements were almost fluid and slow like a dancer putting on a performance rather than someone at the mercy of a loaded gun.

Isaac, however, wasn't entertained. His gaze locked onto her, his grip around his revolver. That smug little smile of hers was starting to get on his nerves.

"I said, get on your knees," he repeated, as he aimed the barrel at her.

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Wen Hua is getting married.

The other party is said to be the head of a Chinese family of European financial giants.

When we met, he was dressed in a suit and leather shoes, and his gestures were dignified and self-reliant, with a demeanor all over his body.

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Mr. Xi is no stranger to this, and nine out of ten times he coaxes people back with nice words.

When he caught up with Wen’s house, someone was sitting in the living room eating oranges, saw him, and unhurriedly ate the last piece, with a provocative expression on his face, “Don’t move here, I’ll buy you some oranges. ”

“…”

Instead of being angry, he gently and patiently coaxed her home

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