Sinister Intentions, Hidden Malice…

“A few words cannot adequately explain.”

Cynthia grasped Tristan's hand, attempting to send him away before the Old Mr. Quinn entered, but she heard the footsteps of the old master drawing closer.

“It's too late, it's too late.” Cynthia's expression was anxious, resembling an ant on a hot pan.

Tristan's eyebrow raised slightly, a hint of playful amusement flickering in his eyes.

“The son-in-law meeting his in-laws, it's only a matter of time.”

Cynthia couldn't focus, her gaze scanning the surroundings before finally landing on her spacious and comfortable office desk.

She pulled Tristan's arm and hurriedly walked over, pressing him under the desk without a word.

“I apologize for inconveniencing you,” Cynthia said.

Tristan, “…”

“Cynthia, you're the first person to treat me like this.” He held her wrist, his dark eyes staring at her with a warning.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”