The living room of the villa is very large, with seven won gathered together. The atmosphere, surely, is not without awkwardness, because they all have served the sa man.
Everyone’s eyes were evasive, as if they considered this a shaful matter.
Until a bold middle-aged woman snorted coldly, crossing her arms, she directly complained, "We’re all lucky ones, why the long faces? It’s good that none of us lost our lives."
This reminded everyone of Ariel Chandler, who died young and in vague circumstances. Various rumors were heard, with all kinds of speculations.
Finn Morgan, after giving so instructions to the bodyguards at the door, turned and left.
These won didn’t know each other initially, but due to Lydia Ingram, they more or less knew of each other, either having t or seen photos.
At this mont, another woman spoke up with a sly tone, "Do you think Monica Usher might be the 11th one?"
Everyone looked at each other, the living room was silent for a few seconds, then soone began to whisper—
"I think it’s very possible, anything is possible!" The fifth wife admired her newly done manicure, "If Monica Usher does marry him, I can guarantee she won’t be the last one."
"n, no matter what age, always like the new and loathe the old. Only those hung on the wall behave."
"Isn’t it possible Monica Usher also lost her life?" soone said with certainty, "I’m well inford about how ruthless Lydia Ingram can be."
"Hey, how can you talk like that?" soone defended the man, "Do you think Ariel Chandler’s death has anything to do with Lydia Ingram?"
"Who knows?" soone scoffed, indifferent to the truth.
Another chid in, "Who can prove it’s unrelated?"
"Exactly, Lydia Ingram hates won causing scenes in front of the dia, yet she talks nonsense about everything."
"Let’s not talk about it, it’s bad luck! How much did you get in the divorce?" The eighth wife was very interested, "Let start, two million plus a car."
"That’s so stingy! I got five million in cash, no car, no house."
"I only got seven hundred thousand... but during that ti, he didn’t have money, the company’s capital chain had broken due to losses."
At this mont, Finn Morgan had already gotten into a car and left, but the conversation here got more heated.
Kingston Group, buildings rising in Riventhal’s most prosperous district, has beco the city’s landmark architecture.
In the spacious and bright CEO’s office.
Justin Kingston just completed a project when a call ca to his private phone.
Seeing the caller ID, his deep eyes imdiately filled with tenderness. Long fingers sliding over to answer, "Hello, Mia."
"What are you doing?" The woman’s voice, as breezy as water, carried a light smile.
All the "what are you doing" in the world can be understood as "I miss you."
Justin Kingston had the sa feeling, he answered seriously, "I’m thinking of you."
"How are you thinking of ?" She seed in a good mood, "Tell about it?"
The man said earnestly, "Sitting, thinking; lying down, still thinking. Wondering what you’re doing. Standing in front of the cabin gazing at the distant scenery, or sitting in front of the computer with your chin in your hand daydreaming?"
She laughed, knowing he must be busy, so she got to the point, "Received, reporting to CEO Kingston, each of us can turn in a perfect scorecard to the company."
"The design’s finished?" He was a bit surprised, ahead of schedule.
"Yes," Mia Lane said, "everyone found their inspiration and designed works they’re satisfied with. Tomorrow we’ll do so finishing touches, then relax for a day, and prepare to head back to the city the day after tomorrow."
"Do you want to pick you up?" Justin Kingston said sincerely; he could put off everything else.
"No, no, no," she quickly declined, "don’t make a grand scene, if you could just co downstairs to welco us, that would be perfect and can motivate everyone."
"Okay, everything listens to my wife." The man’s voice was low and magnetic, "Tell everyone, thank you for your hard work. We’ll have a gathering when you return."
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