The city lights streaked past the tinted windows, casting fleeting patterns of light and shadow across Mr. Qin's sharp features.
He leaned back in the leather seat, arms crossed, his mind a battlefield of emotions he wasn't accustomed to confronting. "Ensure she doesn't know it's from me," he muttered, his voice firm yet weary.
Ziyu glanced at him briefly through the rearview mirror, giving a nod of acknowledgment. He didn't need clarification; he understood his boss's unspoken intentions well enough.
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the steady hum of the car's engine. Mr. Qin's gaze remained fixed on the view outside, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the chaotic events of the day.
Stacy's words still echoed in his ears, biting and sharp, but they couldn't overshadow the deeper worry that lingered in his chest. **She's reckless, too reckless,** he thought grimly, his jaw tightening.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!