Two paths to choose, seemingly merciful, but in truth, filled with thorns.
Elise Don's fingertips were icy, dug into her palm, she stood up abruptly.
But her height only reached Oliver Bloom's collarbone.
He bowed his head, not looking at Elise Don, directly unclipping his watch's metal buckle, his right shoulder slightly drooping, casually placing the watch on the bedside table.
"Also, I heard you were inquiring about Shay Windsor's recent situation." A thin layer of hostility covered Oliver Bloom's face.
Elise Don's coldness, from the fingertips, rapidly expanded to her entire body.
"What have you done to him?"
"He's more resilient than you." Oliver Bloom wore a smile, yet not a hint of sincerity, "He definitely can't rely on the domestic factories; the containers will never clear customs. He's already started production anew in Italy, only lost some money, but that's not the worst of it."
