The noise died down all at once, and the air turned cold and heavy.The night was sharp and silent. Gregory stood under the streetlight, his shadow stretched long across the pavement. The warm glow lit up his face. His features were too perfect to be real, as if they had been carefully sculpted by God.But he looked incredibly icy and unapproachable. Martin looked over at him. Gregory looked tall, composed, and proud. But at the same time, there was also a hint of loneliness about him.Then, Martin glanced at Anathea, still curled up and crying in the back seat of the Rolls-Royce. Whatever had gone down between them clearly hadn't ended on a good note.Still, as Gregory's right-hand man, it was Martin's job to clean up the mess. Stepping toward Gregory, he said cautiously, "Mr. Sinclair, about Mrs. Sinclair…"Gregory didn't respond. He pulled out his phone and made a call.A few minutes later, one of the drivers pulled over in a Bugatti Veyron. He stepped out and handed the key
続きを読む
