Ava Smith couldn't help it anymore. Wind Smith's words were either moral kidnapping or forcing her to sacrifice.
Pick up the teacup on the table and throw it out directly.
"Get out, get out."
Wind Smith snorted coldly: "I just came to inform you, not to discuss with you. I have made contact with all shareholders. They all agree that you should go there whether you want to do it or not."
Then she turned and came out of the door. Ava Smith sat powerlessly in a chair with her eyes blankly. She didn't expect that her relatives, Smith's shareholders, would do such a thing.
Casually touched the phone on the desk.
"Hello, Allen Peterson, I'm so tired."
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing!"
Allen Peterson was confused by this phone call, and his eyebrows immediately frowned. He knew Ava Smith. This woman can't easily say that she's tired! Is there something wrong?
In the afternoon, shareholders came to urge Ava Smith one after another.