Desmond stormed out of the sitting room in a measured step as he struggled to suppress the fury burning within him.
He had hoped the Old man will do something about this lady who keeps on throwing her weight around.
He couldn't believe it—over something as trivial as a shopping trip, he had lost two of his most loyal staff. It felt surreal, completely unexpected.
Back in his private lounge, he poured himself a glass of champagne, sinking into his chair as he tried to analyze the situation. But then his sinking feeling kept hammering on one word
"Jessica".
How had she managed to turn things around so easily? He needed to understand her role in all of this—was she acting alone, or was someone backing her?
Just as he took a sip of the wine, his phone dinged with an incoming call. He glanced at the caller ID, and in an instant, he felt the blood drain from his face. His grip tightened around the glass as a sense of unease settled over him.
