Whose Order

Also in the morning, in a luxury office of Huayang Building, Ye Hao, sitting in an office chair, looked gloomy and heavy, whose amber eyes were burning with rage as if had been ignited.

His cell phone, however, was already cast aside by him on his desk.

Frightened, two of his assistants stood aside with their heads low, not saying a word.

"Have you contacted them yet? Let them get rid of the garbage reports, right now." He roared at his assistants and secretary, his face as red as sunset glow with anger, the veins on his forehead and arms jumping violently.

His two assistants shrank their necks. The president of the company had been grumpy and temperamental lately. They did not know how many times he had lost his temper.