"Okay, I’ll try my best." Titus Zane’s voice was faint, sounding sowhat perfunctory.
After hanging up the phone, he sat in the office chair, feeling a bit disordered.
Actually, it seed easy to get what he wanted, because he was now in the position of the CEO’s assistant.
But when it ca to actually taking action, it seed sowhat difficult because he couldn’t get past his own barrier.
He was like standing at a crossroads, hesitating which path to choose.
He slightly regretted taking this job.
Because of the high level of difficulty, the buyer had paid a hefty deposit. If he backed out now, he would not only have to return the full deposit but also pay an expensive penalty.
That’s just the rule in this line of work.
Not only were they, as corporate spies, at great risk, but buyers also bore significant risks. Because if the espionage failed and the police pursued it, the buyer, as the main party, would bear greater responsibility.
In a way, the relationship between the two was like grasshoppers tied on the sa rope; if one had an accident, the other could not get away.
He picked up the pen on the desk and idly began to draw on the white paper.
He hadn’t picked up a drawing pen for many years, and now he felt a little rusty even doodling with a pen.
Especially his hand, which would involuntarily tremble slightly every ti he held a pen.
He didn’t know if it was due to years of drinking or sothing else.
Like Logan Ray, Titus Zane was good at figure drawing.
Correct content is on
He sketched on the white paper, and soon a figure began to erge. Looking at the neatly trimd short hair, it was a male, tall and upright, seen from the back. Although his facial expression was not visible, the solitary standing figure exuded a cold and desolate air that made people hesitant to approach.
Gradually, the outline beca clear, even each short hair at the back of the head was visible.
The broad shoulders gave a sense of safety and solidity, the legs were straight and long, the figure was very familiar, like...
Two knocks on the door ca, and before Titus could respond, the door opened.
It was Wesley Foley, wearing a light gray suit with the jacket unbuttoned, and a dark red striped tie hanging over his chest.
Instinctively, Titus grabbed the white paper and slid it under the desk, silently crumpling the sketch in his palm.
"Lunch break, let’s go eat." Wesley Foley’s voice sounded relaxed, as if the person who was angry just now wasn’t him.
Maybe it was guilt or defiance, Titus lowered his gaze. The sketch had already quietly been thrown into the trash, and he casually sketched on the paper in front of him with the pen.
"Director Foley, you go ahead, I just ordered takeout."
Wesley Foley had already walked up to him, his long, fair fingers tapping unconsciously on the table, his eyes and brows smiling.
"What, planning not to follow your boss’s orders before work is even over?"
Titus lifted his eyes, his European-style eyes appearing cold.
"It’s lunchti now."
"Oh, you still rember..." Wesley Foley exaggeratedly pouted, then sat on the side of Titus’s desk, his gaze falling on the sketch he had just drawn. He glanced at it then looked up.
"Then why do you still call Director Foley?"
Titus...
Their eyes t, and Wesley Foley’s refined and handso face was warm, his eyes obviously smiling at him.
"Why aren’t you speaking?" Wesley Foley took the initiative, raising his handso eyebrows at the sa ti, "Feeling guilty?"
Perhaps because he was always tied up in knots inside, when Wesley Foley spoke, Titus’s nerves suddenly tightened.
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