The winter wind was biting, slashing across the face like a knife.
"Going to the Blue Abyss Rose, what exactly do you want me to do?"
Claire Sinclair felt a deeply ominous premonition upon hearing the name of the nightclub renowned in Stellerton and even all of Veridia.
"What do you think I want you to do?"
From the other end of the phone came Zion Prescott's luxurious, velvet-like indifferent male voice, the carefree tone as if striking Claire Sinclair's face with a slap.
Yet even more direct was Zion Prescott's next words.
"Ten minutes, now only nine and a half left, do as you please."
Just as the man finished speaking, Claire Sinclair distinctly heard the busy tone coming from the other end of the phone.
Zion Prescott had hung up.
So ruthless.
...
Claire Sinclair suddenly remembered when she first met Zion Prescott, he was not like this.
